Strangers on a Train Redux
by mynameislizzie2
Summary: Another one from the archives. Two strangers literally bump into each other on the morning commute. Predictable cosmic events follow. But true love has a long track to navigate...
1. Chapter 1

Emily

Fuck...I'm _late_...again. Just managed to squeeze my yellow Mini into a non existent parking space, two bloody streets from the station and now I can already hear bleeping and pneumatic doors closing one by one. Fuck...I daren't be late today. Anthea, my boss, is always in early on Tuesdays and she misses nothing. I just manage to avoid snapping my heel in a deep platform pothole, before skidding across the now empty station concourse and basically throwing myself between the sole remaining, but rapidly closing automatic door. Squeezing through, I was just about to congratulate myself on my hitherto unheard of athleticism when I realised I had collided quite hard with a body. The " _ooof_ " of surprise told me whoever it was hadn't expected _that_. Dropping my leather briefcase to the floor, I raise my eyes to apologise and...

Shit...it's _her_. The gorgeous blonde. Shit shit **shit**.

"Sorry...I was..." I mutter, looking back down at my feet, already feeling my face starting to heat up alarmingly. I've never been able to control my blushing, a fact that my twin sister Katie has exploited for at least 20 years. The phrase 'blushing virgin' applied to me ever since I hit puberty, only to be replaced with 'blushing bride' a year ago. Oh yeah...I'm married. To Jonah Jones, JJ to his friends and mine. Don't ask me how I ended up hitched, I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself. Katie got married a year before me, to Jake (a semi pro footballer) and since we have been biologically pre programmed to copy each other since birth (well, more me copying her actually) I followed suit. He was the only guy to ever ask me, and with my mum and sister egging me on...I sort of fell into it. Accident, I call it.

Which is pretty much what I've just done. Fallen into into a _very_ attractive blonde (from a bottle, but blonde nonetheless) who I have been encountering literally and figuratively for a couple of weeks now.

I guess I should explain...

For the past year, I've been catching (and sometimes missing) this train into Fenchurch Street. The 7.47 from Southend Central, calling at all stations, etc, etc. I get on at Westcliff and she's already aboard. Must live in Southend I guess. I've never been brave enough to ask. So...why I am I even interested, I hear you say? Well, I might be married, and to all appearances prim and neatly buttoned up, but I have a secret life.

Not much of a secret life mind. It mainly exists inside a small wooden box in the bottom of the spare room wardrobe. It says 'Emily' on the top in pink writing. I've owned it since I was 13 and despite my sister and brother trying just about everything known to man to open it, it's stayed private. Which is very much just as well. Coz it contains something which would probably give my mother a heart attack and my husband (who luckily, is the _least_ inquisitive person I have ever met) grounds for instant divorce.

Fannies.

Well, I say fannies. Nowadays it's a bit tamer... more mainstream DVD's and books really. Books by Sarah Waters or Fiona Zedde and DVD's of a certain similar... _genre_. 'Tipping the Velvet...'Loving Annabelle'...'The Fingersmith'...a box set of 'Lip Service'...get the picture?

In the past, in my feverish hormone strewn teenage years, while I was fighting off Katie's attempts to fix me up with random spotty youths (most with BO and wandering, clumsy hands) I had more, ahem, explicit reading material in there. A bit less subtlety and a lot more boobs and multiple orgasms. Lately I've contented myself with more restrained fare. JJ, bless him, has no idea, at least I bloody hope not. He's happy with a once a week desultory missionary shag and the occasional cuddle on the couch. His job with the MOD is so demanding, he's never normally in till I'm in bed anyhow, so we rub along (stop it) quite well. He thinks my sex drive is as low as his, I comfort myself with my DVD's, carefully counted in and out of my box, and a post bath...err _rub_?

Anyway, I digress...another 'Emily' trait I can't seem to shift. My immediate problem is standing in front of me, coffee dripping down her hand and onto her expensive shoes. Her face is a picture, but then I guess mine is too. I'm embarrassed beyond belief. We've spoken maybe three times since I dropped into the seat opposite her one rainy morning. She looked up as I sat heavily on the only vacant seat, rolled her eyes at my slightly disheveled appearance and dipped her head down to carry on reading her book. A book which I knew very well...'Waiting in the Wings' by Melissa Brayden. She was reading a lesbian romance...in clear view...on the fucking _train_! There was about as much chance of me becoming Prime Minister than settling down to a lesbian book in public. I stared stupidly at the cover of the book as she studied it. Finally, after a few minutes, she must have realised I was sitting there with my mouth open, like a mong and lowered the paperback.

"Can I help you?" she said, with a sarcastic bite to her voice. My mouth closed with a snap and I instantly blushed scarlet (of course) and shook my head. Could she help me? Not likely...

"Sorry" I muttered stupidly and her face softened a bit. God she was...is...stunning, I thought. Her shoulder length blonde hair in soft curves around her face, her eyes bright...almost luminous blue, with those dark edges to the iris's which made them even more striking. I stared at her eyes for another second, then her full pink lips, then without conscious thought, my own treacherous eyes started to dip lower...

"I can let you have it after I've finished" she said silkily, fluttering the book so I could see she was over half way through. I blushed harder and shook my head again.

"I've err...read it...it's good" I said slowly, instantly cursing myself for blurting that out. Her eyes widened and her mouth curved into a small smile.

"Oh..." she said "interesting..."

Then she raised the book again and started to read, dismissing me.

That was the first time we spoke.

From then on, she was always in that seat, and I made myself less than popular with my fellow Westcliff commuters by elbowing my way through the jostling mass so that I could at least be in the same row of seats, every morning.

And every morning she would look up and smile as I 'accidentally' found a seat near her. Not a big, "Hi You" smile...just a little, sneaky one which said "I _know_ what you're doing missy"

Trouble is, thats all that happened. We sat opposite each other, her reading me sneaking looks at her from behind my Metro (which I would have been unable to tell anyone, under torture, a single word of by the time the train arrived in London)

And now...to add insult to considerable injury...I had just knocked a cup of Costa over her knuckles. The train was over full today and instead of finding her seated, she was standing just inside the door...dripping.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but closed it again. She didn't look pleased. Just a raise of those impeccably manicured eyebrows and her head turned away. Mortified? You betcha. The rest of the journey was painful. I avoided looking at her and she behaved as if I was invisible. Cosmic, I thought. That's fucked THAT up royally.


	2. Chapter 2

Naomi

My anger at being scalded (and stained) with my undrunk Costa Mocha this morning only lasted until I got off the train. Well, that's not entirely true, not even that long. First off, I was more surprised than angry when a hundred mile an hour tiny brunette bundle crashed into me as I stood minding my business this morning. The splash of hot coffee stung, but not as much as I made out. Her obvious distress and embarrassment made me sorry I ignored her for the rest of the journey, but old habits die hard, yeah? I've pretty much perfected the 'fuck off world' attitude since middle school. Usually works a treat. Girls at school learned quickly to leave me alone if I was in a mood. My mother likewise. Boys too, unless I actually wanted them to talk to me, which wasn't very often if I'm honest. Not that I actually dislike guys...they are just superfluous most of the time. Handy for a lift before I got my car and useful to have hanging off me when I wanted to appear 'normal' whatever the fuck that is.

But then I remember Cook, and I realise that maybe I DO hate guys after all. This one in particular. He made a bee line for me at 6th form college and stuck at it, in the face of a million knock backs, right up until the time I finally gave in this year. After a killer session on Absinthe at a party and the stupid decision to let him stay the night at my place...he finally got to bone me. Which has led me to this sorry state.

No, not the coffee stained sleeve and faint scald mark on my wrist that stung all the way up to London, not that state. No, _that_ was the little pocket Venus who I've 'allowed' to moon over me most mornings for the past two months. No, that's an entirely unconnected can of worms. A can I have yet to work out, or even open. I mean, its obvious she's gay, even with that chunky diamond on her ring finger and the plain gold band next to it. Married she might be, but her eyes tell me another, very different story. Don't ask why I've played along with it. I'm _straight_ , OK. Well, as straight as anyone is. One sticky, if satisfying fumble against the bike sheds with an older girl after a school disco doesn't make me kd lang, nor does the brief and torrid fling I had with Rebecca Wright at Uni make me a muff monkey. Experiments, right?

Shagging Cook was NOT an experiment. I knew what sex with guys was like way before that. Brief, messy and usually unsatisfying. At least he got me off, which is probably why I gave him another chance...which definitely IS the reason I'm in such a bad mood. One shag led to another the next morning and before a month was up, most of his grotty possessions were in my flat. Never one to travel 'heavy', James Cook had a grand total of 3 pairs of 501's, two pairs of cargo trousers, 5 or 6 polo shirts (usually stained with beer) and assorted unmentionables. Oh, and his toothbrush.

Trouble is, a leopard never changes spots. Good shag he might be, but I made the mistake of letting him persuade me he might actually care for me. I'd been brilliant at hit and run before, one night stands. Yep...anything longer than a weekend stay, Nope. But his cheeky grin and undefeated optimism wore me down. My bad.

And then on Sunday, I come home from my mums (more on THAT nightmare later) to find he had moved in something else I hadn't counted on. Something which was undoubtedly connected to the air headed blonde he was pounding energetically on the couch as I opened the lounge door. Infidelity was her name. "Grab my balls" was something I endured hearing rather than got used to. I figured a reasonably reliable orgasm was reward enough for complying with his shouted requests at the 'vinegar stroke'...but one thing I was _NOT_ prepared to put up with was hearing it when he was hammering away at some other random he had picked up God knows where, while I was enduring an afternoon at my sainted mothers.

Do you know a steam iron can leave a very distinct mark, even when it's off? No, nor did I...but Cook does. A very clear triangular red mark, right in the middle of his forehead. He jumped off his compliant bimbo fast enough then. She just laid there gasping, gazing up at me in shock, no doubt wondering where the testicles she had been obediently squeezing up till now had disappeared to. I got an entirely unwanted look at his rapidly wilting dick, together with her...bits, before reality hit both of them, just after the flat iron hit _him_ , that is.

Exit Cook stage left, clutching a pair of faded jeans (inevitably) to his naked crutch and holding his bleeding head with the other. She moved faster than him and managed to grab all her clothes in one swoop (maybe practice does make perfect) and followed him down the stairs. I got in one solid kick to her pink wobbling arse as she descended.

When they hit the street, I heard the hoot of horns as the passing traffic showed their appreciation of the unfolding kitchen sink drama. Maybe the random shower of his clothes that followed them down the street from my bedroom window added an encore, I dunno. I closed the window and went straight to the phone to book a lock change.

So this morning, while my mind was still on revenge and dark thoughts, I was totally unprepared for the pocket brunette dynamo who broke my introspection so rudely. I had enjoyed, if that's the right word, her attentions over the past weeks. She was/is ridiculously pretty in an innocent sort of way and the stolen looks and shy smiles had stoked my ego no end. Even when I was actually cohabiting with Cook, I looked forward to her clumsy attempts at small talk. Straight I might be, but she is stupidly hot to look at and obviously well into me. I enjoyed the attention...so sue me?

Maybe it was _bit_ cruel to deliberately read a lesbian romance I bought on a whim in front of her...but I was curious...well maybe a bit more than curious, to see where this was going.

And up to this morning, it was working pretty well. I think she was working up to an actual conversation instead of the shy smiles and muttered good mornings. I was intrigued enough to want to hear her try, but nuclear hot Java sort of puts a hold on that. Specially when I have an important presentation today. My boss is pretty demanding and appearing in front of clients with an obviously coffee stained sleeve wasn't going to get me any brownie points. But it wasn't her fault really. My foul mood had nothing to do with her...she just happened to be in the firing line. Not that I actually shouted at her or anything. I just acknowledged her apology with a curt nod and then turned my back on her for the rest of the journey. Childish really, but I plead extenuating circumstances m'lud.

XXX

The day went better than I thought it would, thanks to several minutes spent in the loo, sponging my sleeve (my arm could wait) and drying it under the hand dryer. Once I looked respectable, I moved into the conference room and confidently made my pitch. I work for a well known charity, and funds are important to us. And to our beneficiaries, the wildlife of Africa, which the western world is making a decent fist of wiping out this century. What with overpaid dentists from the US and Europe paying thousands of dollars to shoot arrows into them, and a ready market for the by products of this disgusting trade in the Far East, we have our work cut out. But the donors who listened to my pitch for more cash were well up for adding a few noughts to our fund. Job done, I soaked up the thank you's from my boss and the Kenyan rep who was over here this week and toddled off to lunch.

It was only mid afternoon when I remembered my bad manners of the morning rush. I never saw this cute girl on the journey home...we must have had different finishing times, but something made me leave early. I normally don't exit the office until after 6...there's always another call to make or another petition to distribute, but I was troubled enough to want to get home. A soak, change of clothes into jogging bottoms and a tee, then a cheese salad and a bottle of Chablis. The perfect way to unwind after a day in the City. Cook was gone, just the unpleasant odour of one of his forgotten socks remaining this morning before I found it and chucked it in the rubbish bin. No...the evening was mine, and boarding the 5.25 from Fenchurch Street, I walked down the carriage, looking for an empty seat.

Which is where things took a decided left turn. Only one seat was empty, facing the back (which I hate). But worse, sitting on the opposite seat, her head in a book, was the object of my recent bad manners. Shit.

She didn't look up as I sat awkwardly on the worn seat. Whatever she was reading, was certainly taking up all her attention. It wasn't until I had been sitting down for several minutes and the train started to move off with an electric whine, that I noticed the title of the book in her hand.

'Ice' it was titled, by someone called Lyn Gardner. Which a few days ago would have meant nothing to me. But my bit of mischief at the booksellers had brought my attention to several books by LGBT authors...and this one I had skimmed before buying the other one I had been leafing through the other morning. Jesus, she was reading a lesbian romance.

I waited for a few seconds until the clatter of changing tracks outside diminished, then coughed quietly. I saw her eyelids flicker (fuck she has beautiful lashes, I thought quickly), then she looked up...and straight into my eyes. I swear her face went through a thousand emotions in the three seconds that passed before she dropped the book onto her lap, and then the floor. Her mouth was open and I saw vivid crimson stain those creamy cheeks. She looked like she had been caught with her hand in a till (or a pair of knickers not her own, my inner devil jeered).

Now I can be harsh on occasion, but I am seldom cruel. Teasing is one thing, taunting is another. I felt the eyes of several of our fellow passengers bore into both of us. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that this was a 'moment'. One of those instances where, as a bystander, you are aware that something is going on...you're just not sure what. So I decided to spare her blushes. I reached down and picked up the book by its spine and pretended to scan the page she had been on.

"Err..." I heard her choke and as I started to lean forward to give her the book back, my eyes took in what had been on the page she had been reading. Shall we just say things wee getting rather...heated between the two women characters? Enough for me to mirror the girl opposite in blushing.

Now our fellow passengers were definitely aware of the frisson of intrigue in the air. The girl reached out for the book I was holding and as I passed it, our hands brushed slightly. I instantly felt like I had been scalded with coffee all over again. But this time the sensation wasn't painful. Far from it...it was way too bloody pleasurable. Enough for me to register shock. And enough for her to too.

"Sorry" we both said at the same time. She looked like a fawn who was about to bolt any second. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Jesus, what was happening to me?

I'd like to say we started talking after that...that we bonded or something...I dunno. But of course, real life's not like that. Instead I looked out of the window for a bit, at least till my heart rate settled a bit. When I looked back, it seemed like a n hour had gone by, because I could see in the darkness outside, the lights of a station coming up. The crackly announcement over the tannoy made me jump.

" _We are approaching Westcliff...next station is Leigh on Sea, then all stops to Southend Central"_

I swallowed hard. Where had the tedious journey gone? What had happened to Grays, Rainham and Barking? A whole big chunk of the journey had just passed me by...was I in a time shift or something?

Then I noticed the girl was getting up. The book was stowed away and she clutched her wool coat to herself like a shield. Within a second she would be gone. I knew I would probably see her again...almost certainly tomorrow, but suddenly I didn't want to take a chance on that. I caught her eye as she stood up and did something I have never done in all my 23 years. I did something spontaneous. As she looked back at me, eyes wide at my expression, I took a piece of paper from my pocket (thanks River Island for the handy receipt) and scribbled a few words onto it with the pen I grabbed from my case. She watched me do it, not joining the crush of people queuing for the doors. Silently I lifted my head until we were staring at each other. I offered the note to her.

She took it.

Then, without a word, she turned and started towards the exit, just as the train slowed for the platform. Within a second she was swamped by the crowd and the darkness. It was as if she had never been there. I swallowed hard again. I don't DO spontaneous, I thought feverishly. What the fuck had I been thinking. The words I had written flashed across my eyes like they were made of neon.

" _Hi...I'm Naomi...and I think you're rather beautiful"_

The arrival at Southend Central was a relief, three stops later. The cold winter air on the platform helping to clear the fog in my mind. Suddenly all the reasons why that was a very bad idea queued up to argue their case in my head. By the time I got to the ticket hall, I had almost convinced myself it was all a dream...


	3. Chapter 3

Emily

I was at my car, still rigid with shock at what had happened on the train, before I remembered I still had that piece of paper in my hand. I stopped by the car door, fumbling in my pocket for car keys and trying to read the note at the same time. It didn't work. It was too dark and the white plumes of frigid air I was blowing out were clouding my vision. Fuck, It was cold. Serves me right for choosing to live on the East Coast, I suppose, although my place of birth, Bristol, was no warmer in an English January. I had shivered through enough UK winters to know if we got a bad one, it was enough to chill your bones right through to the marrow. I pulled my wool coat tighter around me and pressed the key fob. It might be just as cold in the car, but my faithful little Mini had top notch climate control installed. While I sat shivering, waiting for the inside to heat up and the windscreen to clear of frost, I reached up and pressed the courtesy light button above me. It wasn't much, but enough to read by.

I smirked to myself as I realised it was a River Island receipt. Snap, I thought...I have been an occasional customer there, at the same shop...in Southend High Street...it seemed my mystery blonde was too. Even though I was dying to read what she'd written, I couldn't help myself...I sneaked a quick look at what she'd bought.

Sadly there was nothing too daring...just a black, split back top and a pair of block heeled brown suede boots. Very...her, I thought, before flipping the receipt over.

" _Hi...I'm Naomi and I think you're rather beautiful"_

I think I sat there for a couple of hours after reading that...no... just kidding, but it could just as well have been. The world faded into greyness and it was just me and the note, sitting between my noticeably trembling fingers. She thought I was _beautiful_?

Naomi...so that was her name. It suited her. When I was about 15, and my sister had insisted we research the meaning of all our friends and family's names one wet Wednesday afternoon, I remembered vaguely that the name Naomi means 'pleasantness' Well, apart from the scalding episode, for which I could forgive a bit of resentment, she had been...very pleasant, I mean. Naomi...I rolled the name round my mind and then my mouth...Naomi, _Nay oh mi_... I liked it. It _definitely_ suited her.

But not half as much as the rest of the sentence. She thinks I'm beautiful, I thought dizzily? Suddenly, this half thought out, hazy sexual attraction to a complete stranger on a commuter train was solidifying into something tangible. Something real. With a start, I realised that if she thought I was beautiful...it must mean she fancied me, even if just a little. Suddenly I had to deal with the thought that this might turn into a 'thing'. Something I desired and feared in equal measure. A girl...well woman...a pretty, smart and confident woman...fancied _me_...maybe wanted me, wanted to...?. Oh God... My heart thudded in my chest as I let the possibilities of this 'thing' wash over me. If she liked...no _fancied_ me...if she thought I was beautiful...then all the safe little choices I had made in my life up to now were in doubt. If she liked... _fancied_ me...then I had to decide if I wanted to actually do anything about it. Doing nothing would have been safe, easy, very Emily like. I could just hear my sister throwing scorn on the whole idea of a 'thing' with this Naomi.

" _You're not gay Emily...just stupid". "It's just a cry for attention". "You're **married** , for fucks sake". "What about JJ?...He'll be crushed if you cheat on him...it'll break his heart, you know"_

Every sentence rang in my ears as if she was actually here in the car with me. I shivered, and not from the cold when I thought of what choice words my MOTHER would add to Katie's derision.

" _Grow up Emily...you're not gay...not even a little bit". "Just because Katie is so popular with the boys...doesn't mean you have to be THAT different to her". "Marriage is for **life**...remember that, my girl...you gave a solemn promise to be faithful"._

People kept passing the car, the odd one looking curiously at the strange, small woman sitting in the dark with the lights off and the engine running. The car park was getting more and more deserted. Finally, I put the note carefully in the flap behind the drivers side sun visor. No way was I letting THAT little bombshell come inside the apartment with me. Although I was always careful to lock my private box, both at my family home, and now in the seafront 3rd floor place I shared with JJ, I still wasn't going to risk taking something so incendiary home with me. There was no way I could pass that off as something else if it was discovered. It was what it was...an invitation to a...well..a _thing_.

The drive home was a bit of a blur. Good job Westcliff is a lot quieter than Southend. The streets were almost clear of traffic by the time I nosed the now warm and snug Mini out of the car park and headed off towards the seafront. Our apartment was in a modern block, facing the sea. I never really liked it if I was honest. I prefer old buildings, with character...Victorian, Edwardian, anything over 100 years old...they have something about them, some sense that other people liked and lived in them too. Modern blocks like ours were purpose built commuter warehouses for office drones. Every one identical. A soulless white painted lobby, a smart lift with mindless synthetic Muzak to accompany you upstairs and a shiny front door exactly the same as the five others in the pastel hued corridor. Inside the apartment, the fake wood laminated floors ensured the people downstairs knew your every move if you didn't take your shoes off. Hallway, double bedroom to the left, sterile aluminium kitchen to the right, then on into the wide lounge, with its double French doors out onto a balcony with geometric grey steel barrier circling the 6 feet of outside concrete viewing area. The view _was_ spectacular, if identical to everyone else's, but at this time of year the doors were closed tight and locked. An English winter is no time for idling an evening outside.

I sighed as I locked the car in the residents car space at the rear of the building. Every morning, and every evening I crossed this piece of anonymous black tarmac. Each space marked with neat white lines and the relevant flat number. Each, at this time of night, having a similar shiny commuter box on wheels occupying it. Lemmings...I thought sadly, we're all fucking lemmings. The only thing that had brightened my gloom in recent months was the thought of 'bumping into' _my_ blonde on the way to work...or _Naomi_ as I now knew her. But tonight my mood wasn't light, even though I had travelled home with her. Now I was confused...scared. What the fuck was I going to do about it now?

XXX

I could see the lights were on as I looked up to our top floor flat. Which was unusual. I racked my brains to remember if JJ had mentioned an early finish, but nothing occurred to me. His job was his life to be honest and I understood about 5% of what he told me about it. Government department, Official Secrets etc. etc. His Asbergers might have been a handicap when he was at college...it certainly didn't help his social life, but now it was a positive asset. Attention to detail, forensic analysis and unshakeable logic were apparently prized at the anonymous grey office block on the Thames he pointed out to me when he started there. Not exactly MI6, but something equally secretive, that's for sure.

It wasn't particularly well paid, but enough for us to be able to afford this overpriced address, with my modest junior accounting job making up the difference between paying the bills and actually having a life.

The lift doors sighed open and I braced myself to keep the plastic smile on my face all the way inside. Part of me felt guilty for sustaining this deception. I was very _fond_ of JJ, he was kind, considerate, loving and endlessly accommodating, but any passion in the relationship was limited to the 2 week Malta honeymoon. And that was more because I spent the fortnight drinking rather more red wine than I was used to. I wasn't a virgin when we got together, but three random shags with hopeful males in my teenage years hardly made me a Mata Hari. Compared to my very err...active...sister, I was virtually untouched when we walked up the aisle. My mother wept as I swept by in hypocritical white, but I remember being very close to tears myself. Wedding nerves be buggered, I was as reluctant a bride as ever walked that nine yards...

Just as well JJ wasn't very...demanding...in that department. I only had to mention a non existent headache and he backed off smartish. More guilt for yours truly...I knew I wasn't much of a wife to my husband, but enduring fifteen minutes of routine missionary work on our double bed was something I could have waited a lifetime to repeat. If it wasn't for my little box of secrets, a battery powered friend and his late night working, I would be Miss Havisham for the new millennium...

Opening the door, I fixed my smile more firmly on my face and dropped my case, hanging my coat by the door. I got a look at my face in the hall mirror, and was glad to see I didn't actually look as guilty as I felt. The little bit of paper Naomi had pressed into my hand back on the train was safely locked inside my car. I had nothing to be ashamed of, did I? Not _yet_...

"Hi" I breezed cheerily as I pushed open the lounge door. But instead of the expected polite smile from my husband, three faces looked up from the oversized leather couch opposite the door. My face froze in what I hoped was a polite expression. Fucking great. My sister, her husband and, horror of horrors...my _mother_.

"Hi Emily!" I heard from the kitchen. So JJ was home...I could hear expensive Le Creuset cooking pots being shuffled about busily in there. Brilliant...a cosy evening in with the Addam's family. My life is complete, I groaned inwardly, complete with Morticia.

"Cold out?" Katie's other half said flatly. He never was the sharpest knife in the box. Katie had married him for other reputed 'attributes'. The sort of attributes I could wait a lifetime to hear about again. I damned well hoped he was as good a shag as she boasted of, because holding a conversation with Rory was about as stimulating as discussing politics with a post box. He had three interests, football, cricket and shagging (according to my sister). Which didn't make for stimulating dinner conversation.

"Yeah...freezing" I ventured, flicking my eyes back to my mother. She rarely ventured up from Bristol. With Katie living in London and me in darkest Essex, she was happy we were both married off to 'respectable' men. No more shagging around for my experimental sister and no more 'unnatural' urges for yours truly. My aborted attempt to come out was quickly squashed by the dual scorn of my family about the time I finished Uni. There was obviously a reason they were all here and I waited for the announcement. Katie looked as though she might burst, so I raised my eyebrows. I didn't have long to wait. My mother smirked unpleasantly and put down the half full glass she was holding.

"We have some news Emily...or at least Katie has...tell your sister, Katie dear"

Katie rushed over and grabbed me in a fair impression of the famous Fitch hug. No one but my dad can pull it off properly, but by the almost desperate was she was squeezing me, this announcement was important. She pulled back after a few seconds.

"Ems...I'm _PREGNANT_!" she almost screamed.

My blank look almost gave me away, but I quickly pulled my face into surprise,then happiness. It wasn't that I wasn't overjoyed at my sisters news, just shocked. She had been told that she might never have children. I remember the trauma of that diagnosis and the months of anguish she suffered afterwards, back at 6th form college. Katie was always about the perfect life. Perfect make up, perfect boyfriend, perfect marriage and of course...two perfect kids, each a miniature version of her or her husband. The fact that nature had apparently intervened catastrophically had shattered her. It took over a year for her to resurrect her previous outgoing personality. Rory had come at just the right time for her. Handsome enough to be ornamental, dim enough not to understand the concept of early menopause and well paid enough to keep her in the manner she thought she should be accustomed to.

"Thats...thats wonderful Kay" I said honestly "But how...I thought…?"

Katie turned from me and beamed at my mother. I knew she had something to do with this apparent miracle. Her smirk of satisfaction hadn't left her face. I thought again that my mother actually had quite a pretty face, but the fact that her feelings were reflected on it usually made it sour and unpleasant. My father had told me once, when I was going through a particularly hard time at college, lusting pointlessly over some attractive straight girl, that he had had an affair before we were born. I remembered shuddering when he told me how angry my mother had been...how harsh and unbending. It must have been hell for him, despite the wrongness of what he'd done. My sainted mother doesn't do forgiveness, not really. The best you can hope for is an armed truce, with her the obvious victor.

"Mum 'lent' me the money to get specialist treatment in Germany. It cost a fortune. I've been to a clinic and now I've just had some tests. I'm 8 weeks gone...Oh Ems...I'm so _happy_!" Katie gushed, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

I gave her one of my own Fitch hugs at that. She was my sister after all. She might have made my teenage years a misery with her homophobia and constant struggling to knock my confidence, but she was deliriously happy and who was I to throw cold water over news like that.

"That's brilliant Kay" I said genuinely "I'm so happy for both of you...when's it due?"

"September we think" she said happily "If it's a boy, we're gonna call it Logan...if it's a girl, I thought we could call it Sophie...what do you think?"

I nodded.

Again I caught my mothers triumphant look over my sisters shoulder. I'm no psychic, but it didn't take a genius to work out what she was thinking. Emily next...

The thought of having children had occurred to me, but seeing as I seldom even _slept_ with my husband, it wasn't something I dwelt on too much. I'm sure JJ would be a wonderful dad, but it gave me the shivers even considering it. I waited for the inevitable, and Jenna didn't disappoint.

"Well" she smiled thinly "That's _one_ happy twin with a child on the way...when can I expect news about my other daughter...I'm sure JJ would _love_ to be a daddy" Her voice dripped with insincerity.

I swallowed hard. I could hear the pots cease their clatter in the kitchen. Ever the diplomat, JJ had kept out of the lounge while Katie and Jenna enjoyed their moment of fame. I heard a polite cough and his curly head poked through the door.

"I'm sure that will all happen in time Jenna" he said, his mouth pursed "But Emily and _I_ will decide when the time is right" he finished firmly. My inner voice cheered at that rare show of Jonah Jones defiance.

He could have slapped my mother in the face with the tea towel he was holding and it would have had the same effect. I saw her face pale and eyes narrow, and thought for a second she was about to deliver one of those icy remarks she aimed a my dad regularly. But in the second it took JJ to come into the room properly, I guess she decided to save that battle for another time. No one ever accused my mother of being a bad tactician. We all knew she wasn't finished with _that_ subject.

The rest of the evening passed like a condemned man's last night. I drank too much of the Shiraz my sisters husband had brought, and let the happy couple hold centre stage while we ate and drank. At about 11, Katie yawned and nudged Rory, who was about to doze off next to her. She hadn't drunk anything but mineral water all evening, but he had matched me glass for glass. I needed it. The events of today were overwhelming. Naomi...the note, my sister's news, my mother's attempt to nudge JJ and I into something we weren't ready for and I _definitely_ didn't want. I caught the frankly disapproving looks my mother gave me as I held my glass out for yet another refill, but the little demon inside my head prodded me to ignore her. This was MY house, MY dinner table I growled inwardly. The days of the six seater table have long gone. I wasn't quite so sanguine about the milder concern my husband exhibited, but I think he knew me well enough to understand I needed the comforting embrace of alcohol to endure a whole evening with Jenna.

Blearily I waved them goodbye as they left. Katie had hugged me again, Rory too. My mother, of course perfected the skill of appearing to hug without actually doing it years ago. Queen of the air kiss, Jenna Fitch.

When the door closed behind them, I almost sagged in relief. The wine was making my head spin and it was all I could do to stagger to the bedroom. JJ, bless him, had turned back the quilt and helped me with my skirt and top. I should have cleaned my teeth and washed off my make-up, but he helped me into bed without mentioning either. I heard the bedroom door close gently behind him, and knew he would be sleeping on the couch tonight. I laid on my back, trying to make the room stop spinning. Tears started without me even noticing, until they were streaming down my cheeks unchecked. Today had been such a good one, up to the moment I opened my front door...and now it had all gone to shit. I felt so bad about the man who was no doubt restlessly trying to sleep on the couch. He was my husband, and he deserved better than this half life with me. What was I going to do?

As I slipped off into my alcoholic daze, my last thought wasn't for him though, and even through my tiredness, the guilt shook me. It was for that cool blonde on the train.

Naomi. I breathed her name once more before darkness folded over me.


	4. Chapter 4

Naomi

I must have been out of my tiny mind. " _I'm Naomi and I think you're_ _rather_ _ **beautiful**_ _"_? She's _married_ , _**idiot**_ I scolded myself a hundred times before midnight. OK, I'm pretty sure she's bi, if not totally gay, my gaydar isn't that much off centre, but cheating is _wrong_.

I kicked Cook to the kerb for the very thing I was at least presently considering. Flirting is one thing, sidelong glances and knowing looks are one thing. Embarking on what I fucking _know_ would be a hot and heavy affair with a married woman is quite another. By the time I got inside my own flat, now mercifully clear of everything James Cook, down to the last mouldering sock, I was determined to get this fantasy out of my head. With any luck she would be shocked into a negative reaction after reading that note. Once she got home to hubby (and possibly 2.4 children, my inner demon prodded me...she might have _kids_!) common sense would no doubt prevail anyway. Dinner with the other half, a bottle of Shiraz and an early night. Half an hour of vigorous hetero shagging to get the 'blonde on the train' fantasy out of her head and she'd be back to safe little straight land next day.

I poured myself a (very) large Gordon's and Tonic. Grabbing some crushed ice from the freezer, I kicked off my shoes, dropped my silk business suit onto the bed and collapsed onto my couch in just my underwear (the couch now completely exorcised of the horrid JC shagathon with disinfectant and elbow grease) with a heavy sigh. Being straight has it's penalties, but at least it's usually uncomplicated. Cook aside, I don't much go for relationships. Maybe it would be best to get back to the occasional mindless shag after a night out, preferably at HIS place to avoid the embarrassing 'how do I get this slumbering hulk out of my bed and apartment' scenario. It's not that difficult for a reasonably attractive twenty something single woman to get laid on her own terms. A few drinks, a shared glance, then a loveless screw before leaving in the middle of the night and grabbing a taxi home. Yeah, that's it. I'll do that this weekend, I promised myself. But tonight? Tonight it's just me, a litre bottle of the green juniper monster and enough tonic water to make it drinkable.

I sighed again. Who the fuck was I kidding? One look from those chocolate eyes and I'd be toast in the morning. One more day till the weekend and I had to face the prospect of not only sharing an hour and a half on the same train, but to make it infinitely worse, she had that note now, and the metaphorical Pandora was definitely out of the box. I groaned again as I recalled the words. "I think you're beautiful". Not much room for misunderstanding there, is there? _Fuck_.

XXX

I woke up the next morning after a fitful night turning it all over in my head again and again. I kept mentally deciding to be sensible and back the fuck off, but then the image of those velvety dark eyes and creamy skin intruded on my determination. I huffed and puffed my way through a dozen unlikely scenarios, before dozing off.

It was 6 am by my bedside clock and I finally decided enough was enough. Nothing had been solved by a quarter of the bottle of Gordon's or a mostly sleepless night. It was decision time. There was only one day left of this working week. The weekend would give me time to put some distance between my little 'problem' and me. It came to me in a flash of light... of course...all I needed to do today was catch an earlier train in. I wouldn't be leaving work early tonight, so no chance of bumping into her then. Brilliant. After a long hot shower and two cups of fresh Brazilian from my Gaggia extravagance in the kitchen, I dressed quickly in a sober grey business suit and white top.

Within minutes I was hurrying down the High Street towards Central Station. I flashed my season ticket at the barrier machine and just managed to get on the 7.18am. I figured that I would only be 45 minutes earlier arriving in London, just time for another jolt of caffeine and a Danish before walking to Leadenhall Street.

Perfect.

Apart from one fatal flaw. The train was much busier than my usual one, so I had to stand immediately. I huffed a bit, but reasoned that an hour or so standing was preferable to bumping into you know who. My bad. As the train pulled in to Westcliff, I checked my phone for messages. Despite being early, it was entirely likely that Anthea was already working, if not actually at work, then probably making calls and texting her minions (aka me) to be ready for graft at first light. So I didn't look up when the doors hissed open and a couple of people got out. I shivered a bit, despite my heavy wool coat. It was still freezing out there and the blast of frigid air as the stuffy carriage was exposed to the delights of a British winter made everyone inside hunch up a bit against it. Two people got on and one of them bumped my arm as I tried to read the inevitable Anthea missive.

"Sorry" I said immediately, which was mirrored by another equally vacuous response. I'm English, so I should be immune to our collective stupid answer to contact with another human being. Whether it's our fault or not, the instant result is an apology. No one means it, and no one appreciates it, but we go on doing it. Trouble is I knew that voice. My heart thumped and I shot my head up. Fuck.

Two soft brown eyes (strangely with a hint of redness round them...had she been crying?) looked back at me. A cross between a gorgeous incarnation of Bambi and a scared rabbit. Problem was, my eyes were almost certainly doing the same 'headlights' act back.

She looked, I looked and then a second mirrored expression happened. _She_ had taken an early train too, our faces said. For a moment, I felt entirely unwarranted anger bubble up inside me. _She_ had been trying to avoid _me_ , my inner Campbell raged. Then common sense prevailed, all in the time it took for the doors to close and our bodies to be pressed together by the renewed crush. It was her that cracked first. The shocked look was replaced by the recognition of what we had both been trying to do. Then another expression replaced that one. Amusement.

The corners of her pretty mouth twitched. It was infectious. Mine did too. The ridiculousness of our situation, jammed together in this commuter hell truck, both being caught out doing the exact same thing, made it impossible to resist. I smiled too. Then I laughed out loud, a slightly hysterical pitched one, startling the guy next to me so much he dropped his iPod onto the carriage floor, pulling the headphone plug from his ear, which made him yelp. I laughed again, and so did she. I was a husky, throaty laugh that stopped mine in my tracks. My brain did one of those side slips it often did in embarrassing situations. If her voice sounded like that in amusement...what did it sound like when she was being...oh Jesus Christ on a bike...stop that _immediately_.

After the guy grumpily retrieved his runaway iPod, with a less than amused look at us two, still unsuccessfully stifling giggles, he muscled his way further into the train...probably trying to get as far as possible from the lunatics as he could. NO one laughs on the morning commute. It's a largely silent ritual, interrupted only by buzzing phones, tsking iPods and coughing from smokers deprived of their morning cancer stick for the duration. Laughing was an alien sound on the 7.18 to Fenchurch Street.

It was pointless trying to have a conversation now, even if one was desperately overdue, so I settled for enjoying the feel of her small body pressed up against mine. Damn...she smelt good and _felt_ good. My straightness was being tested in a whole new way. We just smirked at each other occasionally until the interminable journey was almost over. As the train clattered over the points noisily, prior to arriving at our destination, she leaned closer (which I enjoyed _waaay_ too much) and whispered in my ear.

The voice was husky still, which made bits of me...hum...and I thought I might easily get used to the sound of that.

" _I think we need to sit down and have a proper chat...don't you Naomi?_ " she said.

The way she stretched out my name, like she was savouring the vowels, made the humming in the pit of my stomach go up several notches. Jesus, she was attractive. I unconsciously bit my lip before replying and watched her eyes widen as I did it. So it wasn't just me that was getting something out of this close proximity then?

" _OK...Café Brera_?" I said. It was right outside the station and as I didn't know which direction she would be going afterwards, I resisted going for my favourite Association Coffee shop in Creechurch Lane. It was miles better coffee, but I would forgo that pleasure for the chance to hear that voice again soonest.

We stepped out of the train together and in less than a minute I was ordering my usual morning Mocha with chocolate chip topping. I still didn't know the woman's name, so as I turned to ask her what she wanted I stumbled my request out.

" _What would you like...err?_ " I said awkwardly.

" _It's Emily...and I'd like a hot chocolate please_ " she said cheerily.

Emily, I thought dreamily as I turned to the barrista and gave her the order. Emily...how perfect was that. It suited her. _Em...il...y_...I mused as the machines hissed and I paid the cashier. _Emily_...

We found a seat by the window and as we sat, I studied her a bit more closely as she fussed with her scarf and coat, taking them off and arranging them neatly over the back of her chair. My own coat was just dropped off my shoulders, in my usual haphazard way. I found her neatness adorable and started to moon a bit more until she caught my gaze and smirked a bit.

" _Checking the merchandise?_ " she grinned shyly and I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I _had_ been, but not in the way I normally admire a fit girls body. She was wearing a black skirt with knee boots and black tights. Her white button collar shirt was covered by a bright, canary yellow hoop necked jumper. She looked...fuck she looked _cute_ , I found myself thinking. She might be grinning at what she thinks is a bit of a perv, but honestly? I think her sexiness (and she had that in spades) was secondary to what my mind was telling me about how damned _cute_ she was. Alarm bells were clanging away inside my head at whatever was happening to me. I'd only just found out her name, for fucks sake and I was bloody _swooning_ over this pint sized Venus. Get a grip Naomi, I told myself, before smiling back at her. I caught her momentary look of confusion at my own changing expression, but then she was sitting down and lifting her cup to those rosebud...fuck, _stop_ it Naomi...lips.

" _So..._ " she said after she'd taken a sip, closing her eyes in pleasure at the sweet taste of quality chocolate. I gripped my fingers tight in rigid fists in my lap. For a split second one of my hands was on it's way to her lips. The thin line of whipped cream on her top one was it's destination. Fucking hell, I was just about to stroke my finger across her her _MOUTH_ , I screamed inwardly...I'm fucking _doomed_...

Five minutes later, I was sure of it. She chatted, I listened and my eyes must have been like those cartoon ones, you know? The ones that spiral like a barbers pole? Fucking doomed. It was only when she stopped talking at looked at me quizzically I realised I had hardly spoken.

" _Are you OK Naomi...I mean I know I go on a bit, but it's so nice to talk to someone who actually listens...but you seemed to have tuned out there for a while?_ " Her face had a slightly worried look at my lack of verbal response, so I coughed to cover my fresh embarrassment.

" _Sorry_ " I said, choking a bit on my coffee " _I like to listen...didn't meant to freak you out"_

She shook her head, which had the effect of setting in motion her long hair. I swear this woman just needs to... _be_...to disarm me. I had a sudden realisation that she could be as dangerous as a cocked pistol, this one. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous...but she hardly seemed to know it. A very dangerous combination, charm and innocence.

" _S_ _o_ _, Emily_ " I said, slightly more confidently " _Tell me more about you_ "

I saw her blink at that. Maybe the flow of words she had been aiming at me were designed to deflect any actual personal information getting out. I had heard about her sister, her mother and her job...but not much about her..and her marriage.

" _Not much to tell_ " she said, her eyes slipping away from mine and concentrating on the window, with it's view of passing commuters, hurrying to their desks.

" _I'm 23. a junior accountant with a big firm and..._ " I caught the hesitance in her voice and knew it was now or never. I put my hand over hers as it fluttered just above the table top. Both of us must have felt the jolt...like last night. Like electricity, but not so shocking...more a caress.

" _Look Emily_ " I said, taking a deep breath...it really was now or never... Straight be buggered. I fancied her something rotten and it was about time I fessed up to it. " _I meant what I said in my note. I DO think you're beautiful. I've never done anything like that before...for fucks sake...until this week I thought I was straight, believe it or not. But I am single...it's easy for me to be upfront about how I feel...I need to know about you?"_

I emphasised the last word so there was no room for argument. My eyes drifted down to where our hands were still joined. On her ring finger, that chunky diamond and the plain wedding band glinted, mute witnesses to our prospective infidelity. Her eyes followed mine and she blushed prettily.

" _I...I..._ " she swallowed hard and gripped my hand in hers " _I...think you're beautiful too Naomi...and I don't have a clue about what to do now. I've never done anything like this either. I'm...married...but we haven't been happy for a while now. He's a good man...a very good man...but something terrifying is happening. I don't know what I should do next"_

Well that floored me. She was as unsure about all this as me. Unhappy marriages aren't exactly uncommon, but embarking on a lesbian affair (and now I was actually being honest with myself, that's definitely what it could become) was a hell of a jump (no pun intended) from being mildly unhappy with your husband, wasn't it?

I gripped her hand again and forced her to look at me.

" _Look Emily...this can be anything you want it to...God knows I want it to happen...but I'm too old and too battle scarred to want to play games with a married woman...a married straight women at that"_

She interrupted. At first I didn't catch what she said, so she had to repeat it.

" _I said...I'm not straight. Never have been. I've just been too weak to go against my mother and sister and act on it. I might be married...but I've never been in love...certainly not with any guy. Not even my husband. I have no idea what is going to happen now. I wouldn't blame you for getting up and walking away. If I were you...I wouldn't take a chance on me"_

I shook my head at that. Even in the short time I'd known her, I knew that she would have. Just like me, she was trapped in this tangle of emotions. It was way too early to talk about love, or anything close to it...but infatuation? Yep, large, family sized doses of that were all around.

Again our eyes met above the coffee cups. I took another deep breath.

" _I've got to go to work now...my boss can be a stroppy bitch...but can I ask you for something?"_

Her eyes softened and she nodded.

" _Your mobile number...I'd like to talk to you this weekend...would that be OK?_ " I said.

There was a second when I though she might say no. I could read her expressions easily. A phone number meant danger. Husbands, sisters, friends... risk. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little Sony compact. She opened the leather case and nodded.

I pulled out my own Samsung and flipped open the case. We swapped.

 _07932 029885_ she tapped into my contacts. _07445 520524_ I tapped into hers. The deal was done. I just put my initials into the name section. Even if I DID fancy her, there was no need to reveal my second name just yet, I reasoned. The humour can come later?

Five minutes later, after sharing a nice, if brief hug, we parted ways on the cold pavement. She headed south and I north, through Fenchurch Buildings. I turned back to see her, but she had already been swallowed up by the jostling crowd of office drones. I sighed heavily before making my way under the arcade and into Creechurch Street. Time for work then, I thought. The phone in my pocket felt heavier than usual, as if the sheer presence of her name within it's electronic brain made it somehow more substantial. I gripped the phone with my hand, stupidly concerned that I might lose it on the way. By the time I got to my office, my hand was cramping...

I had no idea what this weekend would bring, but whatever it was, I was going to ride it out.


	5. Chapter 5

Emily

I was floating on air most of Friday. My boss noticed my somewhat dazed state and asked me several times if I was OK. Telling him I was much more than OK didn't seem to be the wisest strategy. I could hear the conversation in my head as if it was happening.

" _Actually, I'm more than great. Although I'm married, I've met this gorgeous blonde woman with incredible eyes. We've only touched hands briefly, but if she asked me, I'd be naked for her in a heartbeat"_

The sounds of pins dropping would be deafening.

So I just smiled in what I hoped would be an enigmatic expression (Mona Lisa I am not) and kept my head down all day. It was easier to stare at the figures on my monitor and _pretend_ I was awfully busy. I hope it worked, I certainly hope no one actually checked the output from my station that day. Most of the time I was staring intently at a spreadsheet, my mind was either on her smile or in the gutter, exploring all sorts of exotic scenarios. I made myself blush more than once and it was touch and go lunchtime whether I gave in and spent a productive 20 minutes in the ladies...err...relieving my internal tension.

I wish I had actually. Real life has a way of intruding, don't it?

I travelled home at the same time. No Naomi, but I didn't expect to see her anyway. She had explained this morning that she normally came home a full hour after I did. But reading my saucy novel wasn't exactly unstimulating either. I caught myself crossing my legs far more than usual and avoided the curious stares of the people sitting opposite. I found myself counting the stations till Westcliff. With any luck, I thought, JJ will be ultra late tonight. I could have some pasta and wine, maybe even a glass of that delicious vintage port we save for special occasions. Then a bath, an early night with my little rubber friend and sleep.

Fat chance.

I DID get a text from Naomi, which made me smile.

" _Haven't got a_ _ **thing**_ _done today._ _Your_ _fault!_ _N_ _XX_ " It read.

I giggled quietly to myself as I read it. Nice to know I wasn't the only one unsettled today. I thumbed a quick reply just as the train slowed for my station.

" _Ditto...nice tho, ain't it!_ _E_ _XXX_ " I answered, debating over that extra kiss, but as the doors were opening, I risked sending it anyway.

It was still fucking freezing outside, so I rushed to the comfort of my Mini, getting and and turning the heating up to high, even though I only had a mile or so to drive. I hate cold weather, and living by the sea just makes it worse, but I suppose the old cliché about love keeping you warm...fuck, did I just say that, even in my head? I scolded myself for getting way ahead of events. I fancied her...she fancied me, that's clear, but _love_...come on Emily...get a _grip_ , I whispered fiercely.

Getting into the car park and out of the car, I was actually humming some crap tune to myself. Something I almost never do. It was only when I looked up, not expecting to see any sign of life in the top floor window that my heart sank. Fuck, I hissed...there was a light on. I supposed it was too much to hope I had left it on this morning...

I hadn't.

When I got out of the lift and walked to my front door, I could hear in the corridor soft music coming from inside my apartment. I might have forgotten a stray light, but not the radio too. When I opened the door, my fears were confirmed. The smell of pasta and tomato sauce permeated the lobby. JJ came out of the kitchen with his soppy man apron on as I fixed my smile and pretended to be happy to see him.

"Hi Ems...thought I'd get home early tonight...make up for last night. I know it wasn't the nicest surprise, finding your mum here. Still...just us tonight...much better huh?"

He pressed a small kiss to the corner of my mouth and turned back to the stove without waiting for me to answer. My smile faltered as he walked away. Jesus...of all nights, I thought. I knew _this_ ritual.

Light dinner, light conversation, red wine and then...yep, you guessed it. JJ would be expecting his conjugal rights tonight. I almost went into the default " _Actually I_ _have a bit of a headache_ " mode, but I felt the dull ache of guilt already in my chest about who I had _really_ been thinking about all day. I knew he wouldn't press me, if I refused him. But I also knew what his face would look like if I did. He never argued, never insisted, but the boyish look of disappointment would be obvious and for days afterwards he would gently bring up the subject again and again. Working on my guilt, I suppose. I always gave in eventually.

I sighed as I took my coat into the hall and hung it up. Today had been such a _good_ day so far, I thought miserably. Serves me right for expecting too much I thought.

We spent the meal skirting around what we'd actually been doing today (me more than him, seeing as how I'd spent it mooning over a girl on a train) and I drank a lot of Margeaux, even making him open a second, expensive bottle. I needed the Dutch courage. My smile never faltered as he chatted amiably about bugger all...politics, the weather...you get the picture? I nodded in the right places and murmured the right responses, but we both knew this was just the orchestra warming up. Later, the other side of our bedroom door, was the full symphony to be heard.

Well, maybe symphony is a bit over blown for what normally happened. We undressed separately, cleaning our teeth and showering before he jumped into bed before me. He would be sitting up when I came out, his normal pyjamas discarded for the duration. I would forgo my normal tee and knickers for something more...exotic, which is again a bit of an over description for a vaguely sexy short and flimsy nightie. He would smile at me expectantly, until I got to the bedside, then slowly (he'd asked me to do that from the honeymoon onwards) stripping it off, so when he threw back the covers to reveal his...err...readiness...I could get in beside him naked.

Never one for much foreplay, JJ would nuzzle my neck affectionately while squeezing my boobs alternately, like he was frightened one would complain if left out, then run a gentle hand down my body until I opened my legs. By this time I would have him in my hand (Thank God he almost never asked me to put anything else over his sturdy erection pre shag...oral sex being very much my sisters speciality). I might have to squeeze him quite hard at this point. The sensation of having me naked against him had, in the early days, produced a rather unexpected and premature conclusion. I didn't want _that_ to happen tonight. If it did, I could expect to have to rather more...work...to do to get him ready for the main course.

A main course which was as predicable as the pasta had been. A few seconds hunting around, till I gently pushed his hand away and grasped him firmly, guiding him into what he no doubt considered Emily shaped Nirvana. Once 'aboard' JJ would start his routine of gradually harder thrusts into my less than willing body. Rarely would he need any more than five minutes friction. I might throw in the odd "Oh God" or..."Thats it JJ, like that" It was always enough for him to go into jack rabbit mode, while I clung to his back, looking over his shoulder and counting the cracks in the ceiling. Once he had arched and groaned his release into my ear and I had reassured him that it had been wonderful for me too, he would roll off and lie on his back, letting his breathing return to normal. A few more minutes while he held my hand, almost as if he couldn't believe I had let him do that to me, then his breathing would slow and I could creep out of bed and have a shower.

Tonight was no exception, apart from one vital difference. The preparation in the bathroom and foreplay was as routine as always, the initial penetration standard. But something weird happened. As he started to thrust more purposefully into me, and I closed my eyes ready for the next few minutes missionary work, a face flashed into my mind. And it wasn't my husbands.

I tried to dismiss it. Flirting with Naomi on the train was one thing, having her pretty face fill my mind while my husband was inside me was quite another. I gritted my teeth and tried desperately to think of something, anything, to get it out. I know teenage boys try things like imagining unsexy things to delay premature ejaculation, but this was way stranger than that. I was trying hard not to think of a prospective girlfriend while my husband was shagging me. Beyond weird.

I actually whimpered as I strained to get her smiling face out of my head. A response which JJ, of course, entirely misunderstood. Horror of horrors, he must have thought I was actually getting into this. His muscular behind began to grind his erection more purposefully into me. Even worse, the change of angle actually made his pubic bone rub against a very sensitive part of my anatomy. A part he had rarely visited before. For an educated guy, JJ was particularly thick on human geography. I think he believed clitoris was a small village just outside Withenshaw.

Just my luck that tonight while Naomi decided in my mind to start taking off her clothes while smirking at me, JJ had by pure chance got me into a position where I was getting actual physical pleasure from his lovemaking. I couldn't help it. Naomi was doing...things... in my head...while JJ was doing...things...in my body. I found myself responding, while all the time a small inner voice was screaming at me that this was as wrong as anything I had done my entire life.

He rocked, I groaned and soon realised that something entirely unprecedented and unplanned was actually about to happen. I felt it rising almost from my toes. My stomach started to clench and I found myself clutching at him ever harder as he thrust. Now, my husband has _never_ made me climax before...not even when I drank a gallon of red to prepare myself. He always got his pleasure, assuming I suppose that my lame attempts to fake it were genuine. But tonight he hit the jackpot.

" _Fuck_ " I said hoarsely through gritted teeth "Fuck...I'm going to...Oh Jesus Jay... _yes_ , I'm gonna..."

And I did, while he lifted up off me slightly and watched my face contort with pleasure. If I had been able to construct a coherent thought, I would have known that the wonder on his face at my obvious loss of control was a dangerous thing to happen. But I wasn't, so I didn't.

Seconds after I came, he did too. I held onto him while he thrashed and groaned above me. I was already coming down from the high I had been on and guilt was washing over me in miserable waves. I felt like I had betrayed both of them. Never have I got up so quick afterwards. _No_ holding hands tonight.

The last thing I saw before I slipped into the bathroom for my shower was his bewildered smile as he lay there looking at me. He looked like a man who had just been told Camelot was on the phone with some good news.

I shut the door behind me and looked at myself in the mirror. The flushed cheeks and wide eyes that looked back at me were testament to my recent orgasm. But I felt no joy at that fact. At all.

To add to my woes, as I got out of the shower and towelled myself off, I heard my phone buzz in my bag. I got it out and opened the message from NC.

" _Still thinking about u_ _E_ _xxx_ " it said.

A fat tear dropped onto the screen as I looked down at the message. I couldn't bring myself to answer. What the fuck could I say? " _I've just screwed my husband...but don't worry, I was thinking about you all the time...kiss kiss"_

What the hell was I gonna do now?


	6. Chapter 6

Naomi

I went to bed with a huge grin on my face Friday night. Just as well I was on my own...I was doing a pretty good impression of Jim Carrey in 'The Mask' all day...although happily my face wasn't quite so green.

' _You know who_ ' had put the permanent smile on my face and I got a little tired of being reminded of how happy I looked at work by all and sundry. Even my boss noticed. Her worried/amused look made me tone it down a bit, but the damned thing just kept breaking out, like an irritating rash, just more pleasant. Still, the hours flew at work, even if my contribution to the charities output was minimal. Staring at a screen whilst doodling someone's name on your notepad isn't what I actually get paid for, but as I was in the honeymoon period after my part in our recent windfall in benefactors, I got away with it...just.

On the way home, which was about 7, I buried my head in that novel I had bought to tease her... _Emily_... Actually it was quite good and by the time I looked up from it (only the slightest flush on my face at some of the more...graphic...descriptions of sapphic love) the train was pulling into Central Station. I grabbed my bag and hurried home through the busy crowd of weary fellow commuters.

Usually, as it was Friday, I would be planning a night out. But since the débâcle named Cook, I had been a bit of a hermit lately. And anyway, I had my daydreaming to keep me warm. The fresh bottle of Tanqueray in the freezer, together with half a dozen bottles of Diet Schweppes and two whole limes from the Indian grocers in Southchurch Avenue I had stashed for such an occasion would have to do tonight. A long hot bath, my favourite winter snuggling dressing gown, a bit tatty round the edges, but comforting and maybe the Game of Thrones box set to mong off to?

Yep, sounded like a plan.

By the time I had drunk two super large ice cold G & T's with a more than grateful sigh, I had run the bath and dropped my work clothes into the basket. I collapsed onto the couch after the bath and hunted for the remote control. A couple of hours of mindless violence and rampant sex sounded just the job. As it turned out, I only made it through two episodes. It might have had something to do with the gin...who can tell. My last memory of Friday was getting, well alright, staggering a bit, off the couch, dropping my dressing gown to the floor beside my bed and thumbing a short goofy text to Emily, before I collapsed and the world faded into comforting black.

Morning came with the usual background throb from my head. I love gin, but it's sometimes less than friendly in return. Two paracetamol and a cold glass of water, followed by another half hour dozing and I was OK. I jumped out of bed feeling a lot better and headed for the bathroom. On the way I collected my phone from the coffee table and felt just a slight twinge of disappointment when the only message on it was another drunken plea from Cook for us to get back together. You could almost smell the alcohol fumes in his misspelt words. Never the most creative of thinkers (his normal pulling move was to rub his crutch and flick his tongue at you...Tarzan had a more subtle approach), the text didn't disappoint.

" _Babe... I'm sory...you n me are ment 4 each other...willy waggle?_ "

Not what I'd call a sophisticated attempt to woo me, was it? I guessed it was probably at the end of a long beer soaked evening when, surprisingly enough, most of the female population of Essex had spurned his subtle advances. I deleted it without a thought before I dismissed my scruffy ex from my head as soon as I had deleted the message. A far more appealing petite form swam into my mind. Dark hair, liquid brown eyes and even though our shared hug was brief, the promise of a curvy little body under her winter coat for me to dream over. I shared a wry smile with myself as I cleaned my teeth, looking at my less than impressive reflection in the bathroom mirror. Turning into a right little horny dyke, Campbell, I mused. I'd never been a girl to swoon over boy bands or 6 packs. Never really been much of a swooner at all. But the little brunette was pressing all the right buttons at the moment. It might lead somewhere, it might not, but the flutter of unanticipated butterflies in my stomach every time her face or name came into my head wasn't going away.

My good mood lasted until I had eaten my muesli and drunk a couple of stiff coffees. Time to face the world. Still no word from Emily, but I guessed she would be dealing with married domesticity right now. THAT gave me a nasty lurch, when I thought a bit more about what it might entail. Married...remember. Husband...double bed...?

"Nah.." I thought out loud "She's as smitten as me...probably made the old man sleep in the spare room last night"

It was probably utterly unrealistic, but I hung on to that thought grimly for the time it took to open my front door. Bad move.

On my apartment doorstep mat, curled into a foetal ball, was a way too familiar form. James fucking Cook. Looking like he'd been regurgitated by the honey monster. Stained sweat shirt, even more stained red Harrington, zipped up right under his chin. Sta Prest which may or may not have been pale blue once. Now they were darkly mottled, like special forces had tried to camouflage them with God knows what. Scuffed brown tasselled loafers, no socks and the visible evidence of his night out in the form of streaks of clotted blood on his face. Fighting again, I sighed. My ex lived in a world where booze was a pause between punch ups and shags. Nothing more cerebral entered Cook's world. He either wanted to fight you or fuck you. Trouble is I had done both with him, and the novelty wore off pretty quick. I nudged him with the toe of my shoe, but he just grumbled in his sleep and curled tighter. Sort of a vagrant ninja dormouse.

" _Cook_!" I shouted, bending down so my voice penetrated his fuddled brain.

"Wha...who..." he blurted, uncurling in a flash, fists clenched in defence and his eyes hunting the corridor for unseen enemies.

"It's me Cook...although fuck knows I wish it wasn't...any reason you've decided to sleep on my doorstep in sub zero temperatures overnight?"

I used my best 'fucked off' look, but as always, Cook was impervious to sarcasm or verbal attack.

"Had a fight...couple of big lads...pissed off fer sum reason...didn't like me shagging this chick in the alley...girlfriend or summink" he rambled cheerfully, picking himself off the floor and blowing on his cupped blue hands. Fucking hell, any normal person would have expired in the cold last night. But Cook was the last of the big survivors. Along with rats and cockroaches, he'd outlive anything the planet threw at him.

"Cuppa coffee would be nice Naomikins" he smirked, looking me up and down in that crude "get your knickers off" way he invariably reacted to being in the proximity of a female with a pulse. I had long given up believing that it meant anything. It was just his way.

"Dream on Cook" I growled, staring back at him with what I hoped were flint hard eyes. "I _told_ you when I caught you ejaculating into that silicon bimbo on my sofa, that you'd never set foot in here again, and I meant it"

"Weren't like that Nomi" he smiled winningly..a expression slightly spoilt by his split lip and puffy eye. "We was just getting friendly before you got home...I was hoping you'd fancy joining in...y'know...you like a bit of fanny now and again, don't ya?"

Confessing to Cook one drunken night that I'd not only slept with women, but enjoyed it, had been a _very_ bad move. Ever since, he had been constantly on the lookout for potential threesome candidates. But even if all that were true about my sexuality, I felt physically sick at the idea of playing the meat in a Cook/Bimbo sandwich now or ever.

"Fuck off Cook" I said flatly "I wasted enough nights with you in my bed to know what 'grab my balls' means when you're shagging...You were right on the terminal stroke...the last thing on your mind was sharing that random with me, even if I was fucked up enough to EVER want _that_. _You_ fucked up, _I_ tossed you out. End of. Now...if you don't mind, I'm off shopping. You..." and I prodded him in the chest for emphasis "...are taking your rancid self down to the nearest bathhouse. You smell like a cross between a beer mat and the Emergency Room"

His eyes dipped as he realised I wasn't going to let him in to the flat, old times sake or no.

"Got no cash...must have lost my wallet babe" he mumbled unconvincingly.

"You've never even _owned_ a wallet Cook" I said, rolling my eyes "Any cash you've ever had spends so little time in your pocket, it never gets wrinkled...and for the millionth time...I'm _not_ your babe"

I sighed, because I knew what was coming next. I might dislike him at the moment and I definitely hated what he'd done to me, but at one time he was pretty much my only friend. Crazy, irresponsible and delinquent he was, but he was my idiot, I supposed. After his mum pegged it, snorting one line of Peruvian marching powder too many from the bronzed thigh of some reality TV star or other and his younger brother Paddy disappeared into the less than comforting arms of the welfare state, he was alone. My mother might be planning on 'shagging on every beach in India' or whatever her little hippy heart craved, but I did at least have the comfort of knowing she would be back home at some point. Cook really _was_ alone. Something that contributed to me surrendering to his non existent charms before. But that was then, before discovering him nailing a naked, squealing tart on my couch...before I met a certain dark eyed beauty on the morning train. I had a growing feeling something good and pure was about to enter my life...Cook was definitely NOT going to be any part of that.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my purse. I saw his crafty sideways look at the notes inside before I snapped it shut firmly after drawing out a £20. I held it out to him.

"Best and ONLY offer you're getting today Cook...take this and get yourself cleaned up. Bath, breakfast and maybe a clean shirt?" I grimaced at the state of him "You might think your dubious charms actually work on women, but I'll let you into a little secret...it doesn't matter how pissed they are, naked wrestling with someone who smells like the empties bin behind the Dog and Duck _ain't_ what they're looking for"

He smiled back at me after taking the note and stuffing it in his jeans pocket.

"Nice one Naomikins" he sniffed, rubbing his sleeve across his face. I saw now the sense in him preferring maroon Harrington's. Less chance of the blood showing.

"Bye Cook" I said pointedly, nodding towards the stair well. Again the cheeky smile. He might be down and out now, but I would bet my mortgage on him propping up the bar at the said 'Duck' tonight, trying his caveman pick up lines on a succession of wide eyed women looking for the exit. God help them.

He left then, winking at me with his remaining good eye. I shrugged as he disappeared. Emily aside, kicking Cook out of my life had definitely been a good thing. Charity is one thing, sharing an apartment with someone on the steep spiral slope down to outright vagrancy quite another. I took another look at my phone before following him out of the building. Still nothing from Emily. The twinge of disappointment was stronger this time...surely she had had time to answer me by now? I pushed the thought of her enjoying a Saturday morning lazy shag with hubby firmly out of my mind...she wouldn't...she just _wouldn't_

XXX

Emily

This morning was worse, if that was humanly possible. Somehow, in the night, JJ had wrapped himself around me and I woke up with the odd sensation that I was being...groped. Well, not groped, more...handled. His palm was cupping one of my tits possessively and there was something unwanted and unexpected prodding me in the back. For a second, I thought I would have to endure the horrors of another session on my back. Luckily, my husband was actually asleep. His morning...problem...was more physical than mental. Inch by inch, I extricated myself from his grip. Pulling his hand from my chest and gradually moving to the very edge of the mattress. I'd like to say my exit from the marital bed was graceful, but falling on your arse from two feet up is never graceful. Thank God for thick carpets. I got up onto my feet with only my dignity damaged. Looking down on him as he slept on I felt another wave of guilt wash over me. He was kind, loyal and endlessly gentle man. But I didn't love him. Never had. He deserved something... _someone_ better than me. Better than this half life with a woman who cruised through a marriage on autopilot.

Trouble is I knew he loved me. Probably more than he ever had, and last night was a cruel trick to play on him, even though it was unintended. Naomi's face in my mind, that shy but knowing grin...made me throb in places I had forgotten existed. He was just a convenient appendage to rub against while I dreamed of having sex with a person I'd really only just met.

And now he thought things were improving in the bed department. I have no doubt that he knew I faked it every other time. His look of surprise wasn't something I missed. He watched me come hard and it told him something wrong, something as untrue as anything I had done since making my wedding vows.

I quietly washed in the bathroom, energetically brushing my teeth and quickly dressed in white tee, blue jeans and my winter knee boots. I needed to get out of there, like right now. He would probably sleep until 10, which would give me time to do what I was planning. I scribbled a short note and placed it against the bedroom clock next to the bed. Another twinge of guilt hit me as I read it back.

" _Going to see Sasha...should be back before lunch...enjoy your lay in_ _x E_ "

Sasha was my go to friend in times like this. Married herself, with two small boys, she lived about a mile and a half away. Her husband was a soldier, so spent a fair bit of time on tours. We got friendly at the mini mart one morning and I've known her for over a year now. She was also the only person, apart from my blonde bombshell, who knew for certain that I was gay. We'd never...you know...she was as straight as they come, but she knew how to get the truth from people. She had an uncanny knack of asking the right question when you were most vulnerable. One night, when JJ was on a course, we shared a litre bottle of vintage port and poured out more than red liquid. Confessions time, squared. She admitted and affair she'd had when Gareth was away in Iraq...and I admitted that I had always fancied girls, before after and during my marriage. She didn't judge, didn't laugh, just nodded as if it was obvious to her and carried on pouring another large glass for yours truly. For once I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Someone _knew_. Someone who wouldn't blab to the world or laugh at me, like my sister would have done.

So we swapped more secrets and since then we've been good friends. Good enough to help me out today. I still hadn't replied to Naomi's text, and if she was anything like me (and God I hoped so) she would be starting to worry that I was having second thoughts. After all, _I_ was the married one. She was single and I knew from our short chat this morning there was no one else on the scene.

I dialled Sasha's number and waited beside my car for her to pick up. When she did, I heard the squeal of her eldest, Shannon, in the background. It sounded like Sasha was handling a full blown toddler crisis, so I kept it short.

"Sash..." I said "I know you're up to your neck...but can you do me a favour?"

I heard her shushing Shannon before putting the phone back to her ear.

"Short of running off with you to India and becoming a full time muff monkey, you got me Fitch" she said cheekily "Although on second thoughts...maybe I'll park these little monsters with my mother and do just that... "

I giggled, that was never gonna happen. Not only was she disgustingly straight, but she loved those 'little monsters' like a tiger with cubs.

"Yeah...right" I teased "One night with me and you'd be pleading to hide in my suitcase"

She laughed and waited for me to carry on.

"Sash...could you cover for me this morning. JJ is in bed and I've left him a note saying I'm at yours..."

"Whereas, in truth, you've got Amelia Clarkes phone number and you're planning on running off with HER to India?" she said unhelpfully.

"No such luck" I said dolefully "But...hopefully I AM meeting someone this morning...they just don't know it yet?"

I heard the sharp intake of breath at the other end then there was a short silence.

"Seriously Em" she said quickly "a woman, obviously...tell me all...fuck me, you took your time getting there mate...who is she...what does she look like? I want all the disgusting details...are you meeting at a hotel...oh God..have you slept with her already?...You have haven't you, you sneaky bitch...you told me I would be the first to know...I..."

"Stop...stop" I giggled "It's not like that...we've only just met...I just want to talk to her..."

"And shag her... go on, tell me you don't want to shag her" she prodded "is she fit...does she have nice ti..."

"STOP" I said "trust you to drag it into the gutter...we've not even kissed yet. I just know I like her a lot, and I think she might like me. But she texted me last night and I haven't answered yet"

"Why NOT?" she screamed "Don't tell me you bottled it Fitch?"

"No" I said quickly "It wasn't that...I would have but JJ...he wanted to..."

"Oh NO!" she gasped "Don't tell me old Jay insisted on his husbandly rights?"

This time I was silent and she gasped again.

"Fuck... what brilliant timing...so you and JJ were getting it on while this mystery woman was sexting you...?"

"NO!" I said loudly "It wasn't that sort of text...just a sort of 'I'm thinking about you' one"

"Ahhhh" Sasha drawled "true love then...so what are you gonna do Ems"

I swallowed...what _was_ I gonna do. She might have plans, might have actually pulled last night (although I didn't think so...unless she was into texting other women while she was seducing another) That was more Cook than Naomi.

"I'm going to ask her to meet me somewhere so we can talk properly. I just want Jay put off the scent for a few hours so I can sort this out"

She agreed happily to lie to my husband if her called and after she'd pressed me to give her ALL the details in the unlikely event that Naomi and I ended up shagging today, I hung up and scrolled through my contacts for the NC entry.

I walked towards the town centre, pressing the little green phone symbol as I walked. It rang for several seconds, while my heart sank an inch with every ring. My luck, I thought, she's out somewhere.

Then a click and a now familiar sweet voice came through the tinny speaker.

"Err...Hi...Emily?"

This is it, I thought, now or never.

"Can we go somewhere...anywhere?"


	7. Chapter 7

Naomi

The call came just as I was trying on a pair of winter boots in town. My feet had been freezing yesterday, even in our temperature controlled office, so I planned to treat myself to a decent pair, especially as winter this year seems to want to go on till July.

" _Can we go somewhere...anywhere?_ "

It came across as a bit... _odd_ , to be honest. OK, we'd met up yesterday and I had texted her last night, but she sounded almost sad. I hoped nothing had happened to change her mind. The butterflies in my stomach suddenly didn't seem so friendly. So I thanked the assistant and put the boots back. Time enough to get them later if everything went to shit. Which I expected, given my dismal record so far.

We arranged to meet outside the Odeon, just up the High Street from where I was. Emily said she could get there in 10 minutes, walking. Westcliff is the next small town to Southend, although with the growth in both places, they had sort of merged in the last 10 years. It was still fucking cold, so I wasn't planning on spending too much time outside. I suppose I should be grateful it wasn't raining...it usually is... but the continued sub zero temperatures kept most people wrapped up in thick coats and scarves. I shivered a bit as I shuffled from foot to foot outside the ugly concrete block masquerading as a cinema complex. Southend had had several classic 30's movie houses (all now demolished) when my mother was a kid, as she told me endlessly, growing up. I stopped listening to her reminiscences when she veered into back row confessions. It was hard enough to picture my mother as a hormonal teenager, let alone have the enduring horror of an image of her with an adolescent hand up her skirt in the cheap seats. Yuck.

Emily was true to her word. You can see about half a mile down London Road from the pavement outside the cinema and I could soon see her small form in the distance, hunched against the cold, appearing from the grey murk away to my right. A tiny smile appeared on my face immediately. This might not be good news, but the very fact that she was even in my post code seemed to brighten the day on its own.

Fuck it, I thought...I'm going to walk and meet her. She was wearing dark blue wool coat, grey scarf and blue jeans. Her long hair was being pushed about in the chill breeze, but with her head down, I couldn't see the velvety eyes that had so captured my attention that first day on the train. I don't think she was expecting me to be there when I finally got to her.

"Hi" I said quietly, making her jump from whatever thoughts were troubling her as she walked quickly towards town.

"Oh...Naomi...I mean hi" she said, smiling shyly up at me. My heart did it's normal thump thump as those eyes worked their magic yet again.

I debated for a microsecond reaching out with my hand, but changed my mind in another. I opened my arms and after a seconds pause (which troubled me a bit) she allowed me to fold her into my arms. She felt good there...like she belonged. I knew that was a dangerous feeling. She didn't _really_ belong there, did she...married, remember? But I allowed myself to enjoy the warmth and shape of her small body against mine for another moment before pulling back.

"It's good to see you" I said dumbly...for fuck sake it had only been a few hours, but dammit, it DID feel good to see her small face in front of me. In fact I intended to see it a lot in future, that is unless today was going to be the day she had those nasty second thoughts and this was just the last hurrah in our (very) short acquaintance.

She dispelled that creeping doubt with another smile and a quick hug of her own.

"Good to see you too Naomi" she said in that highly attractive hoarse voice I had grown to like. "I needed to see you"

Now that can be taken two ways and my usual cynical take on life always errs on the negative side. _Needs_ to see me...I thought. Maybe this _is_ the kiss off?

She must have seen the doubt in my eyes, because she reached out with a tiny gloved hand and squeezed my own.

"I mean...I _wanted_ to see you..."

I hoped that was as positive as it sounded.

"Well..." I said, watching the white plumes of our breath mingle in the frigid air "Don't know about you, but I need to get inside...its colder than a witches tit out here"

The husky giggle that little bit of profanity provoked made me clench most inappropriately for a cold Saturday morning

"How long have you got...I mean..." I stuttered.

We both knew what I meant...how long could she spare me. Where did her husband think she was?

Again she read the meaning in my words instantly.

"I have all morning...I said I'm at a friends...I mean, I'm supposed to be..." she tailed off.

I wouldn't have been surprised to see the words 'adultery' appear over our heads in glowing neon at that point. Not that I actually thought any adultery would take place right there, but it was in the fucking post, and we both knew it.

She broke the awkward silence that followed.

"A coffee would be nice?" she said quietly.

Right, I thought, first things first then...where? There were no end of high priced Starbucks and Costa's in town, but it suddenly occurred to me that a better solution was available

"Actually, I live a few streets away. Rather than huddle in an over priced Costa with all the Saturday morning shopping drones, why don't you come back to mine. I can promise you proper coffee, a warm flat and somewhere for us to relax...how about that?"

I held my breath a bit after blurting all that out. I hadn't intended it to sound quite so much like "come up and see my etchings" but she smiled sweetly again, so I felt my stomach relax.

"Yeah.." she breathed..."that would be nice"

So five minutes later, we were approaching my block. I scanned the street around anxiously for any signs of a wandering Cook, but luckily he must have been currently spending my twenty quid in some greasy spoon. I unlocked my apartment door and ushered Emily inside.

The heating was still on, so the warmth enveloped both of us immediately as I closed the door behind us. I took off my coat and scarf and held out my hand for hers. Watching her take it off gave me a twinge a bit like the last one. It wasn't as if she had anything provocative on underneath. Just the blue skinnies and a plain if tight white tee. But it was what was under it which gave me the trembles. Having only seen her dressed for winter before, I wasn't really prepared for how...curvy...she was. Her legs were surprisingly long for a short girl and I had to avert my eyes quickly as her breasts bounced way too attractively under the white cotton. Fuck, she is _hot_ , I thought feverishly as I led her into the lounge. I caught her small grin before she hid it and knew she had read my thoughts very accurately. It was entirely possible this girl could be the death of me, I mused internally, while trying to come across as cool and reserved.

While Emily sat in the lounge, looking out of my window at the grey Southend skyline, I busied myself with my Gaggia Classic. I love good coffee, and even before I had got myself a decent fridge I had laid out nearly three hundred quid for this shiny metal beauty.

"What do you fancy Emily" I shouted over my shoulder, then winced as I realised the potential double entendre in those words.

There was a short pause before she answered, so I turned quickly... to find her admiring my behind as I stood in the kitchen. She flushed quickly (and adorably) as she saw me looking and I grinned at her obvious discomfort. At least I wasn't the only one perving this morning.

"Err...espresso...with lots of cream and sugar" she said shyly, now keeping her eyes firmly on my face.

"Coming right up" I said cheerfully. She didn't look like someone who was about to break this off...whatever _this_ was. It was a start, I reassured myself while clattering cups and waiting for the metal monster to start belching pure dark pleasure.

A few minutes later we were sitting on the couch, not tightly together, but close enough for me to study her face as she drank. Cute little nose, cupid bow lips and of course, those heavenly eyes. As she opened them after swallowing a mouthful of my Lavazza Super Crema and smiled at my expression I realised with a jolt that I was truly fucked. Never had I been this attracted to a human being in my life. All the adolescent yearnings, the sticky fumblings and unsatisfactory shags faded into nothingness. Even Cook, with his unsettling expertise and stamina in bed was a pale imitation of what I was feeling now. I really liked _this_ girl...woman, whatever. Fancied her. Desired her. Suddenly even the delicious taste of my expensive coffee was weak and unsatisfying. I saw the look in her eyes as she watched me.

I put down my cup, rattling it slightly in the saucer. She did the same, blinking as she straightened up.

"Emily...?" I said seriously

She swallowed and stayed silent

"I think...no I _know_...I need to kiss you right now...would that be OK?"

Again she stayed silent, but her small nod was enough. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against hers. I could feel the tremble in her as she responded. I shuffled closer and cupped her smooth cheeks in my hand. Our eyes were telling stories to each other which I would never remember afterwards, but once I had touched her lips with mine, I needed more...much more.

I suppose if this was fiction, now would be the time to talk of tearing cloth and popping buttons, but it wasn't like that...not at all.

We kissed. We kissed a _lot_. And every kiss was like a shot of pure adrenalin. Her lips were soft, but demanding. Those little noises in the back of her throat as we kissed softly were driving me ever deeper into the madness of just wanting her. Soon she was almost on my lap, our mouths just drinking each other in. I heard another whimper, but this time it was me. I just couldn't get enough of her. Her tongue was the first to probe, to tease. I let her explore my mouth, taking her time as if she was kissing someone for the first time. Her body was in my hands, but I wasn't reaching for zips or buttons. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to. Wanted to more than anything I had ever wanted before, but I knew this...this feeling...this woman...was special. This was no opportunistic shag against a car park wall, or a drunken screw on my couch after a boozy night out. This was something I had apparently been waiting all my life to experience, even if I hadn't even known it until this morning.

I don't know how long we kissed, only that my mouth was almost numb when we finally separated. The flushed and astonished look on her face was testament to the effect it had had on Emily too. With one last gentle brush of lips, we parted and sat back.

"That was...well, I have no actual idea _what_ that was " I said breathlessly.

She nodded, staring at my lips as if she wanted to start all over again.

"Yeah..."she said huskily "It really was...wasn't it Naomi"

It was almost embarrassing how much that kiss...or series of kisses had affected me. I felt myself matching her flushed look.

"I've never felt..." I stumbled for the right words "Never..." I tailed off.

"Me neither" she said, reaching out and cupping my cheek with her hand. "It's a bit _scary_...isn't it?"

This time I nodded. Scary was right. If this was what it was like just kissing Emily...what would it be like when we actually..." I blushed again. _That_ was almost too much to imagine.

We sat there for a few more moments, just her warm little hand in mine. No words were necessary. It was enough to enjoy the afterglow of something...something _momentous_.

Eventually we did talk of course. I made another coffee, and she came out into the kitchen and put her arms around me from behind. I trembled myself this time. Whatever this...thing...of ours developed into, I knew at that moment that my whole life had changed from this morning onwards.

We sat back on the couch. We talked about ourselves, our lives and our dreams. I found out her husband was called Jonah Jeremiah Jones, which made me stifle a giggle. JJ for short, she said, sharing my amusement. I wasn't quite so amused when she told me about her life with him. I hated the fact that she shared her bed with someone she liked but didn't love. My own mostly single life I sort of skated over, especially the Cook bit. He just got categorised as 'recent boyfriend, unfaithful and kicked into touch'

Trouble is, that prompted her to tell me about her sister Katie. I knew from our conversation yesterday that she had a sister, but Emily now revealed they were twins. Not identical twins, but close enough to be mistaken at a distance. I giggled a bit at her description of Kate as the original boy magnet, changing them like disposable gloves every week. But then she said something which shattered my cosy after snogging glow. She was just finishing an anecdote about some guy her sister had been out with before she got married.

"God he was a sleaze..." she laughed "After everything in a skirt...I told her he was useless as husband material, but she insisted as he was such a 'good shag' she'd put up with it for now...he even tried it on with _me_ once when we were at a club...God, do guys _ever_ get over that twin obsession thing? Anyway, she finally ditched him when she discovered he had been screwing her best friend AND her older sister at once...even for Katie, the idea of being _third_ in line was too much. Horrible scruffy shit...she was well rid of him...he was always turning up pissed, with stains on his shirt...what she saw in him...well apart from the obvious...I have no idea. I pity whatever poor girl he latched onto next, they can't have much self respect can they?"

I shook my head weakly...I had an awful... _horrible_ feeling I knew where this was going. Southend isn't that big a town. But it couldn't be...could it?

That little conundrum was rapidly solved with her next sentence.

"I never knew his first name...used to call himself Cook or something"

Emily hadn't noticed that my amused smile had hardened into a sickly rictus. I thought things couldn't get any worse, but of course, they always can.

As I searched my brain for something...anything to talk about to get the subject changed, there was a clatter at my door as the letterbox was forced upwards. A familiar and chillingly inevitable croaky voice penetrated our cosy little tete a tete.

" _NAOMIKINS_!...answer the _door_ babe...I think I left my backup supply of condoms at yours...its a fucking boner emergency ...open _up_!"

I looked at Emily and she looked back at me. Shit, shit SHIT! I thought miserably as recognition dawned on her pretty face. Beam me up Scotty.


	8. Chapter 8

Emily

It shouldn't make a difference, should it? Finding out that Naomi's recently departed boyfriend (although him shouting through the letterbox is hardly signs of a relationship _completely_ over, is it?) was the infamous Cook from Katie's murky past was a bit of a show stopper. My lips were still tingling from what was comfortably the best snog of my entire life, when he started bellowing through the post slot. Naomi's face was a picture. I _thought_ she looked a bit green as I finished my little character assassination of Katie's ex, but now I know it was far worse than that.

He was _her_ ex too. And not too long ago by what he'd been shouting through the door. Back up condom supply? What the hell _was_ that? I remember him as a fair haired, badly dressed lout with endless self confidence and questionable hygiene, not someone I could picture in Naomi's life...and very very recently, by the sounds of it. I can't lie, I felt a bit, no a _lot_ disappointed in her. She seemed so together, so organised. How does that square with shacking up with the idiot she had been with up to a few days ago, apparently? It's not as if she had fallen for his charms in a drunken haze one night after one too many shots, was it? A one off shag with no repeats. There aren't many women who will agree to hold your 'back up' shagging supplies at their address after one night of drunken passion.

No, this had been a _proper_ relationship. I was just staggered. Numb...a bit like my lips had been moments before. But not in such a nice way.

Naomi jumped up like she'd been scalded when we both recognised the voice. She rushed out of the lounge and opened the front door. I heard an "ooof" sound when this Cook character tried to come in. She must have had a spare knee handy to cool his ardour. There was a brief but heated whispered exchange, followed by a whoop from lover boy when he obviously understood Naomi had company...female company. Then another few seconds of hissed conversation. In a few seconds, the door closed again and the object of my recent lust walked slowly back into the room.

I stared at her as she stood there, her face deadly serious and her eyes wary.

"There's no point me trying to sweeten it, is there Emily?" she said sadly "Yes, that was the very James Cook you were referring too before. Yes, he is my ex...my very ex if he's got any sense, but then he never had much of that, did he?"

I looked at her for a moment, before answering.

"I don't really know what to say Naomi...I mean, there I was slagging him off for being the town male bike and then he turns up at your door, asking for...well..."

She shook her head, so I stopped before I said anything worse.

"Yeah, I know...always knows how to fuck up a good thing, Cook. I suppose you'll be going now Emily, now you know my taste is even worse than your sisters. At least she had the sense not to move in with him"

Her mouth was pulled into a thin line and she folded her arms defensively as I looked back up at her. I could feel her withdrawing by the second.

I didn't know how to answer that. If I was honest, that's exactly what I was planning on doing. The atmosphere had completely changed. I came here feeling pretty guilty about my orgasmic marital performance last night, but the kissing had the effect of putting that in perspective. However, Cook, or James Cook as I now knew him, had emphatically trumped that.

"Look Naomi" I said weakly "he's your _ex_ , not your current boyfriend, I have no right to think any worse of you because..."

"...but you _do_ though, don't you?" she finished for me "I can see it in your eyes"

I bet she can, I though miserably. My eyes have always betrayed me. Apart from my tendency to blush at the worst possible moment, my eyes are far too good at telling people what I'm thinking. And I was thinking very bad things at the moment. She was right, I needed to go.

I saw the defeat in her expression before I dipped my head, looking for my bag. It seemed like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I know it was cowardly, shallow, but I needed time to think. Cook had been an absolute bastard to my twin and it didn't seem that he'd changed one tiny bit. Worse still, he was still on the scene, even if Naomi had moved him and his 'supplies' out. Could I think of a future with her while he was around? For one thing, the only other thing he was excellent at apart from waving his appendage, was spreading gossip. If he even _guessed_ I had been the 'woman' in the lounge while Naomi was forcing him out of the flat, it would be common knowledge in the area within hours. My sister might be married now, but she had plenty of friends who weren't. A bit of Cook malicious gossip and my dirty little secret would be out. I shuddered at the thought of the family meeting that would follow _that_ bit of dirt. My mother would be positively magisterial in her disapproval.

No, I had to get out of there now. Time to think, that's all, I weaselled to myself as I picked up my bag and met her eyes again.

"I...I just need some time to think, Naomi I said dully "Cook knows my sisters friends...I think we just need to..."

"...Call it a day?" she said with a trace of bitterness in her voice. I could hear walls being erected round her as she stood there arms still folded, a look which mixed disappointment with resignation. Her face, so recently alive with passion, now looked pale and grim.

"No...I don't mean that..I... just..." I almost whispered.

"Yeah, right Emily..." she said flatly "Well...you know your way out. Nice to have met you"

I tried to get her to look at me again, but she turned away as I walked to the door. Her back was rigid and her head down. I thought I saw her shoulders shake.

I sighed miserably and turned at the door.

"Naomi...this doesn't have to mean..." I tried, but she stayed with her back to me. It was only when I had got my coat and scarf and was holding the outer door in my hand that I heard it. A small sob. The lump in my own throat that had been threatening to choke me suddenly grew larger.

I left then, closing the door quietly behind me.


	9. Chapter 9

Naomi

The only good thing about today has been the gentle residual ache in my right knee. An ache which matched a very much more painful one in Cook's over-active nadgers. My aim is true, as Elvis Costello once said. His (Cook's not Elvis, bless him) unwanted and unwelcome intrusion cost me the company of someone I was finding myself getting very fond of. But thats well fucked now, whatever Emily said as she left me with her head down. I don't think...no, in fact I _know_ it wasn't to do with my ex just turning up unannounced. But the 'who' the ex _was_ certainly widened her eyes.

Obviously Cook had used his unquenchable ability to piss off her twin big time back in the day. But I think it was his proximity to us that frightened her most. If he actually _did_ know any of her sisters friends, I can see why she would be uneasy. Cook has only three default modes, consuming drink and/or drugs, fighting and gossiping. And boy would our little secret burn a hole in his flimsy inhibitions. Not only had he nailed her sister (and most of her friends probably) but the thought of me getting down and dirty with her almost identical twin would have him howling at the moon in delight. One step closer to a threesome with beautiful twins would be his take on the coincidence, no matter that the likelihood of that actually happening were infinitesimally small. About the same as an asteroid striking Southend in the next 20 minutes. Something which was getting strangely appealing, if it's only opposition was standing in the lounge, looking mournfully out of the window at the grey streets, cradling a cold cup of coffee.

She'd been gone 20 minutes by then, and I had hardly moved. It was going so well too. I had plans involving another heated snogging session, with maybe the prospect of a bit of over the clothes... _rubbing_...as it were. Now with the cold water of Cook's lamo performance washing away that prospect, the day seemed to stretch out in front of me endlessly, as grey and cold as the weather.

It took me nearly an hour to get myself into some sort of normal routine after that. I washed up the coffee cups (looking regretfully at Emily's lipstick marked cup as I did) and tidied up an already immaculate apartment. After I got rid of Cook, I had forensically cleaned the place from top to bottom. Contrary to his belief, I had no 'backup condom stash' anywhere in the place. If there had been such a gruesome treasure trove, I would have found it. The fact that he had still found it necessary to even _have_ one was just another good reason for me to dump him. Always hedging his bets, the Cookie monster. Bastard.

But it gave me something to do instead of drink, although even for me, the allure of the Tanqueray bottle was pretty easy to resist this early. It was nearly noon when I shook myself out of autopilot mode. Mooning about, waiting for a text that would never arrive was pointless. It was going to be hard, but I had to shake myself out of it. I tried to convince myself that this random figure off the 7.41 was just a pipe dream. Something unreachable to take out of a mental memory box and polish now and again. She was _married_ , right? Maybe Cook's crude intervention was fate. My own little guardian angel telling me it was wrong of us to cheat and even more wrong for me to cuckold her unknowing husband.

Trouble is, every time I thought of those soft brown eyes and pale skin, I got goose bumps. I had to do something about that. She was probably back in the loving arms of her other half by now, happy in the knowledge that she played with fire for a bit, but didn't get burned. Old JJ would probably get lucky tonight if he played his cards right.., today's sexual tension has to come out somewhere right? I burned with jealousy at the thought of him pawing that creamy body, but in the end, it was his to paw, wasn't it, not mine?

By 4 o clock, with no sign of any contact from Emily, I made a decision. I took out my phone and with only the slightest of second thoughts, fired off a message to her. It wasn't particularly poetic, but effective I hoped.

" _I'm sorry I disappointed you. Lets not make this harder than it is. I'm deleting your contact from my phone. I suggest you do the same with mine. We'll put it down to a moments madness, right?. NC_ "

There was a second, just before I pressed 'send' when I hesitated. Burning bridges is my strong suit. I've done it before, but maybe not with the emotional stab in the guts I got doing it this time. I hated being wrong in general, but on this occasion I had got it so badly wrong, I had wounded myself right down to the bone. But in the end I sent it anyway. I reasoned I could get an earlier train all next week and then, if I had to get the usual one afterwards, it was pretty easy to just move carriages if I saw her. In a month, this would all look as silly as it was, mooning over a married woman indeed. Fantasy, that's all.

I turned my phone off after calling my friend Lisa and arranging to meet up at the Pink Toothbrush in Rayleigh at 10 tonight. It was always a reliably numbing experience, dancing pissed to thumping drum and bass, surrounded by equally ratted fellow clubbers. Mindless joy, that was the cure for my ills. I spent the rest of the afternoon choosing something to wear. Something revealing without being slutty. I had no real desire to pull, but a flash of thigh or boob works wonders for free drinks. I ended up in a pale blue dress with enough flesh showing to be tempting. After 5, I got out the Tanqueray and poured myself a generous one (or two) By 7, I was giggling to myself at YouTube on my pad, watching idiots making fools of themselves for the world to see...a bit like me if you like, but preserved forever on the web. At least my humiliation was private, sort of. Two gins turned into five, but I stopped after that. I wanted to get mindlessly pissed tonight but not so far gone that I couldn't manage the taxi there without up-chucking on the way.

Wrapped in my heavy coat, I called in at the 'Dog' (mercifully Cook free tonight) before getting the landlord to order me a taxi for 9.30. There were a few people in there I knew, so I chatted away about fuck all, as you do when you're all well on the way to oblivion. In the end, two of the other girls were planning on a night at the old 'Toothbrush', so we shared a cab over. Lisa was outside when we pulled up and we greeted each other the way only the truly drunk can. All air kisses and over the top hugs. As soon as we got past the doormen, I headed for the bar, but Lisa pulled me back.

"I got some...you know...wanna share?" she whispered like stage drunk as we handed our coats in to the cloakroom. Now I have been mostly off chemicals since Uni. One too many walks of shame in the morning after getting completely off my head on one white powder or other and waking up with fuck knows who.. But tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity to test my resistance again. I nodded almost violently and held onto her arm as we negotiated the milling crowds of people in the lobby. The bass was so loud inside the club that you could feel it through the soles of your feet, but it was a bit quieter in the Ladies.

We grabbed a cubicle and Lisa pulled a small plastic wrap from inside her bra.

"What is it?" I hissed, not quite wasted enough to take a snort from it without asking.

"Got it off Stevie Gee...it's a mixture of MDMA and... Ketamine?...he reckons its good for about 4/5 hours going mental"

Now I know Ketamine is used by vets to tranquillise horses, so as pissed as I was I wrinkled my brow in response to _that_ little gem. MDMA I'd had a few times. Made me love the world and all that were on it _and_ dance until my feet almost wore off, so I was happy to take a hit of that...but horse tranquilliser?

"It's OK, I had a little sniff last night" Lisa said conspiratorially. "Bit trippy later on, but you'll love it. I had to lie in this morning till 12 and drink gallons of water, but other than that, it's _smoking_..." she sniggered

On another night, with maybe a few less gins inside me, I might have said no and settled for plain old alcohol, but I was hurting inside, no matter how convincing my drunken façade. What the hell I thought? I'm young free and (very) single...again.

"Fuck it" I said eventually and bent over the cistern with its upturned make up mirror as Lisa held out a rolled up tenner "Give it here, druggie"

An hour later I was fucking _flying_. Like I said I don't do drugs much nowadays. You have that time in your life when you're seventeen or whatever, and you feel like you're invincible and indestructible (bit like Cook, but his adolescence never wore off) but then you calm the fuck down, if you survive. Old age..even if it is in your twenties, makes you a bit more cautious. But tonight was no time for caution. I danced, I sang and I allowed various randoms to buy me drinks in the forlorn hope of parting me from my virtue in some scummy alley later. Fat chance. I was on a mission to dance to every fucking thing the jock spun up. From house to hip hop and back via techno...I fucking bounced around to it. Lisa pulled after an hour or so, but did I care? No. I was lost in a world of spinning lights and visceral beat. The sweat ran down my back and I must have looked like a panda on acid by the end. At least one hopeful was kind enough to get me some bottled water, otherwise I might just have expired on the floor.

In any case, the night ended way too soon. It only seemed like minutes since I had thrown my shoes under a table and hit the shiny floor, but then the lights were going up and I was in a crowd of people surging towards the exits. Luckily for me, I recognised a girl I knew from town. She was with her boyfriend and offered me a lift back in their car. Otherwise I might have had to walk on my bare feet (fuck knows what happened to my shoes) all the way back down the A127 home. At least my coat was still there, under ticket 124.

A half hour staring out of the window at the pretty lights along the dual carriageway and we were pulling up outside my block. I groggily got out. The drugs were still grinding away at my nervous system, but sheer tiredness was fighting a rearguard action against them. I waved thanks and goodbye as the car pulled away and trudged up the concrete stairs to my floor, staring at my feet with the exaggerated care of the truly fucked. Even in my stoned and pissed state, I didn't want to step in broken glass or doggy poo.

I opened the lobby door and walked down the corridor to my apartment. It was only when I got nearer that my eyes registered a shape on the mat.

"Fuck me...not _now_ " I said dispiritedly to myself. If I had to evict Cook yet again from my doorstep, I wouldn't be responsible for my actions. I was in no mood for circular arguments tonight.

And then I saw that the person sitting there was too small to be Cook. Much too small. A pale little face looked up at me with wide brown eyes as I approached.

" _E_... _Emily_?" I said, my mouth open in a pretty reasonable impersonation of one of those fish you see on grocers slabs.

Her face was tear stained and parallel dark lines had made their way down her cheeks so she looked like an audition for the Rocky Horror Show.

"Hi Naomi" she said in a voice even huskier than usual "I've... left him"

"Jesus Christ on a bike" I gaped in amazement. I thought for a second the K had addled what remained of my senses. Left him... Left her _husband_...for fucks sake.

I stood there like a dummy, just looking at her.

What was I gonna do _now_?


	10. Chapter 10

Emily

I opened my eyes and blinked away the blur of early morning weariness from them. I was warm, which felt like the first time in years. I was comfortable. Gradually the morning bodily ritual of waking up _all_ my senses began. Lying on my side, on a bed, under a soft quilt, facing a strange wall. A wall with pictures on it of people I didn't recognise. A woman in her 40's with what looked horrifyingly like a multi patterned yellow kaftan on, holding a baby and smiling goofily at the camera. Another of a small yellow haired girl of about 4, sitting on a sink, looking pensively down at her feet. Yet another shot of a crowd of what looked like University students, grinning proudly in their hired black graduation gowns, a flurry of mortar boards frozen in the air above them.

Not my bedroom then, my brain slowly admitted. Not my bed. Comfortable as I was, I had to turn over. Which resulted in me coming face to face with another person in the oh so comfortable bed. So... suddenly Iwasn't _quite_ so comfortable.

A pair of intense blue eyes stared at me. A halo of tousled fair hair (now I knew who that little girl in the picture was) surrounded a beautiful face. A face that was serious and frankly a bit scary.

"Morning" she said quietly "Sleep well Emily?"

The brief period of other worldliness I'd been 'enjoying' came to a shuddering stop. _Naomi_...and I was in her bed, literally inches from her.

For a moment, my throat closed up, I had no idea what to say to the woman who had in turn enraptured, rejected and now saved me. Saved me from more than just a night on a freezing cold doorstep, but had taken me inside, hugged me, washed my tear stained face and then tucked me into the seductive embrace of this soft bed. A woman who had refused to let me talk at all. OK, my teeth had been chattering so much when she found me, I wouldn't have made much sense anyway, but even when she had washed my face, taken off my clothes (Oh, God...I thought...she's seen me naked...or at least in my underwear) and put me in HER bed for the night., she just put a cool finger on my lips when I tried to explain and shook her head firmly.

"Not tonight Emily" she said firmly.

I remember thinking she looked a bit worse for wear too last night. Her eyes were bright and wide, the black pupils almost covering iridescent blue irises. Her make up was smeared. Not her lipstick...which I vividly remember being grateful for, even in my distress...but she definitely looked like someone who had been out and painted the whole town with two coats of crimson gloss.

But I _definitely_ didn't remember her getting into bed with me. Not that I had any right at all to object. _I_ was the runaway, the vagrant, turning up on her doorstep. _I_ was the one who had walked out of here hours before, cowardly fleeing because she happened to have slept with the same guy who my sister had once (OK, probably several times) _I_ was the one who had left my husband (the jolt of guilt I got at THAT little gem made me wince, even as she stared at me steadily).

So I settled for a nervous nod. I had slept well. Better than I had for months actually.

"You can tell me what and how much you like" she said in a whisper "Or not...it's up to you Em"

The nickname was nice, I thought. But she must have a million questions, and I owed it to her to at least answer some of them.

"I'm sorr..." I started, but she shushed me almost impatiently.

"Not important...you came _back_ " she said with a small smile. "I thought you were gone for good"

"Couldn't..." I said hoarsely "...I _tried_ to phone you, but your phone was switched off?"

She nodded, slipping her hand flat under her head and moved an inch closer to me on her pillow Our heads were so close I could count the individual eyelashes over her eyes. Long, dark lashes. Beautiful lashes.

I blinked, mainly to give myself time to think. What did I say? I''d spent yesterday phoning her over and over after reading that text, all the time trying to avoid JJ's increasingly desperate attempts to find out why I was crying. I sat in our lounge, sobbing like a fool while my poor husband fussed around me, trying tea, handkerchiefs and finally vodka to pacify me. In the end, when I got no answer at all from Naomi, I threw my phone onto the couch and wiped my eyes with the white cotton square JJ had offered me. My heart was aching at the knowledge that I had to hurt him now...a lot. And that it might all be for nothing anyway. That text had scared me so much, it was so final, so... _hard_.

He just sat there quietly while I told him what was in my heart. I loved him...I just wasn't **in** love with him. I realised while I was saying it, that the clichéd "I _t's not you_ , _it's me_ " line was slim reward for his constant devotion and love. He'd done nothing wrong. Just fell in love with a girl who couldn't love him back in the way he deserved. Couldn't love _any_ man back. Because I'm gay. Have always been gay, and always will be, and now...now I'd met someone who'd lifted the grey veil which had been over my eyes since adolescence. Someone who turned my grey world into vivid, swirling colour.

"I knew" he said finally, after I'd sobbed out yet another limp apology, sitting there squeezing tears from a now soaked handkerchief.

"W..what?" I said, mouth hanging open in disbelief "But...but you never..."

"Of course not...I love you Emily...I've always loved you, right from when we were at school. I just knew there was something missing, something important. Last night...when we...when you... that was the first time, wasn't it...the first time you actually felt..."

I nodded, my head down in shame. I thought I'd been clever enough to fool him. All those nights of faked ecstasy.

"But _why_...if you knew Jay...why did you...?" I mumbled, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

"Because I thought if I could...if we could just...after a few years, you might...grow to love me the way I love you" he said, his voice hushed and desperately sad. I thought my heart would actually stop, I felt so wretched.

"I'm so sorry Jay" I sobbed " I never meant to hurt you"

"I know" he sighed "But you have...but we couldn't go on much longer living this lie could we Em?"

I shook my head. Why was he being so reasonable about this? Most guys would be raging by now, calling me every filthy name they could think of. I know I hadn't actually committed adultery yet...not physically. But in my head I had. And it burned.

He let me walk out of the flat. We never actually discussed separation, but the practicalities hardly mattered now. I had left him, even if my clothes hung in our wardrobe still and my smiling face (forced, like everything since) looked out from the poster sized wedding photo on the hall wall. I wandered around the cold streets for a good few hours, not caring about the curious glances I was getting from the people passing me on the pavement. I found myself outside Naomi's apartment block without knowing how I got there and a nice elderly gentleman in a blue great coat let me in. He didn't even ask who I was visiting. I guess my tear stained face and hunched posture told him everything he needed to know.

And then, after knocking uselessly for several minutes, I waited...and waited. It got colder, and darker and eventually the street door downstairs stopped banging open and shut. I didn't even know why I had come. She was out, God knows where, but I knew I had to make things right between us. Even if she was determined to break it off, whatever it was. I had to know for certain. So I waited.

I must have drifted off, despite the bitter cold, because when I heard soft footsteps on the stairs, I started awake. I knew I must look a sight, but what else was there to do? I could hardly count on my sister or mother for moral support. If JJ had told them about what had happened, I was pretty sure the posse would be out already, a thick knotted rope dangling from my mothers hand next to the wanted poster. Lynching was the least of my worries.

But when she looked down at me sitting on her cold doorstep. I knew I wouldn't actually have to sleep on the street. After the initial shock of seeing me, she was all business.

And now I was in her bed, in a borrowed tee shirt, looking at her pretty face as she studied mine.

I started to tell her all the things I had described, but she stopped me by reaching out and stroking my face gently.

"You know...I had imagined this...you here, in my bed...but under slightly different circumstances. I just need to know one thing Emily?" she said softly.

"What?" I said almost in a whisper.

"Are you here because you want to be...I mean really _want_ to be...or is this just the only place you could think of?"

It was a fair question. In one way I didn't have many options. OK, I had my purse and enough money in the bank and on my credit cards to have booked into any one of the seaside hotels which are dotted around town. This time of year, there are beds galore free. I could have booked into one and left the messy details till morning. But I knew I wanted to be here...whatever here meant. Maybe she wouldn't want me like this. The sort of baggage I come with is heavy for anyone to carry. Broken marriage, occasionally violent harpy of a sister, gorgon of a mother. It wouldn't be easy. But she needed to know the truth.

"I _wanted_ to be here. I wanted to be with _you_. Everything else...my marriage, JJ, Cook...is just background noise. I don't know if we will have a future..." I said steadily "...but if we could have, I don't want to die not knowing"

Her smile then lit up the room like a burst of summer sun,

"Then that's all I need to know" she said happily " Now...I think I deserve a reward for rescuing this little damsel in distress. I think a kiss is in order?"

Now I smiled happily and moved closer. I wasn't ready for anything hot and heavy, but a kiss was just what the doctor ordered. I slid into her arms and it was like God had made us to fit together, like perfectly carved matching figurines. Her body pressed against me enough to make my fear of anything 'further' waver quite a bit, but when her lips closed over mine and her soft hair brushed my face, I simply whimpered with pleasure. Like the first kiss we had shared, it went on and on. I think there was a bit of moaning from both sides at one point or another, but when she finally pulled back, with just that Naomi trademark gentle brush of lips to end it, I was dizzy with excitement. I think if she had pushed me then for more...contact, I wouldn't have resisted at all. It's not as if I hadn't dreamed of something like this often enough in the past, was it? In bed with a beautiful, willing girl, one small piece of material away from being gloriously naked together. But she must have read my mind.

"Wow..." she breathed..."I think we need to get _up_ now Emily Fitch...otherwise I might just lose control and show you how much I DO want my reward"

"And I would probably enjoy that a lot" I said, smiling back "But you're right...we need to talk, and...I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday morning...?"

She giggled and poked me with her fingers in the ribs, making me squirm out of her grip.

"Oi" she complained, "No one said anything about bed AND board missy"

So reluctantly I prised myself out of my safe little cocoon and followed her into her kitchen. The rumour that I followed her pert behind with my eyes all the way there is _entirely_ false.


	11. Chapter 11

Naomi

Sitting here eating toast and peanut butter at my kitchen table with one Emily Fitch is beyond strange. Yesterday I spent mostly devastated that she couldn't handle my past with her sisters ex, and now she's sitting opposite me, munching hungrily through my toasted thick sliced bread, batting those lush lashes at me between bites. _My_ but she's a hungry little thing (and there is EVERY truth in the rumour that my mind wandered into very inappropriate places every time that small pink tongue darted out and captured a stray crumb off her lip). Feeding her this morning has used up nearly half a loaf of bread and a sizeable chunk of my family sized Sun Pat Crunchy jar. Not that I mind, you understand. Half of me is just fucking swooning at even having her here, dressed in just one of my old tee shirts and borrowed knickers. Looking for all the world as if she belongs here, in _my_ apartment. But the other half of my mind is shitting itself that this might all be a very temporary arrangement, given what happened yesterday.

Leaving this JJ husband type character this abruptly was enough of a shock. I mean, we'd just started to go through the fumbling, unsure, embarrassing part of a fledgling relationship, hadn't we?. Secret meetings, eyes across a room (OK a train) and other tentative stuff. Now she's spent the night in my bed, next to me. It all seemed a bit surreal. Not to mention too good to be true.

Not that I'm complaining about the bed bit at _all_. Last night was a bit of a blur after 10 o clock what with alcohol and that industrial strength powder I snorted. That is until I got home and found her curled up with her arms round her knees, shivering on my doorstep. Then the effects of the drink and drugs, Ketamine and all, seemed to be swept away by just one pleading look from those hypnotic Bambi eyes. I seemed to instantly sober up. Getting her warm and safe was my only priority after that. Once she was curled up in my bed, I did briefly consider sleeping on the couch, given the fact that the sight of her creamy skin, even the briefest glimpse, sent shock waves through my already chemically enhanced libido. But curling up behind her under the duvet, especially when she murmured incoherently in her sleep, wriggling that pert behind into my fluttering stomach, was _way_ too addictive.

But I managed to keep my hands off...well...those parts of her they seemed magnetically attracted to. She sighed and muttered in her sleep a fair bit, but tiredness overcame me too fairly quickly, so she held onto her virtue, and sadly, so did I.

Considering how attractive I find her, its not surprising I want to jump her bones at the first opportunity, is it? But animal instincts aside, we obviously need to talk this morning. Even if her husband _has_ meekly accepted his wife walking out on him for another woman, from what she's told me about her mother and sister, this ain't the end of it...no way. I feel a showdown with the other Fitches is imminent.

But that was for later. For now I was watching a _very_ hungry girl eat.

"More coffee...or toast Em?" I said, wondering where the affectionate shortening of her name came from. My fucking _mouth_ was treacherously disobeying reason now...

She looked up, her mouth still working on what must have been her fourth thick slice of farmhouse white. Her cheeks bulged like a little squirrels, but she swallowed it all eventually, then smiled up at me with a shy but cheeky look in her eyes. (A look I wished I could bottle and bring out every now and then)

"I think I _might_ be able to manage another drink Naomi...if you don't mind?" she said, swooping on the last slice of toast which I had foolishly left unguarded on my plate "...And this bread is really _delicious_ "

I rolled my eyes in what I hoped was mock despair and regarded her little face affectionately.

"No problem...I'll just ring the bakers too...they might want to order in another 20 loaves this weekend" I said lightly, hoping the expression on my face told her I was joking, but she dipped her head and put down the bread as if it was radio active.

"Sorry" she said in a tiny voice "I'm such a pig...eating all your food...turning up here, expecting you to..."

I reached over and gripped her small hand as it lay on the table top.

" _Joke_ Em...just a stupid joke...you can have as many slices as you like...It's just for a... _little_... person...you do love your food, missy, don't you?"

She looked up sharply, searching my face for anything other than teasing.

I kept my expression neutral.

"Look..." I said, picking up the orphan slice again and waving it in front of her..."It's _all_ yours Em...every delicious crumb"

I giggled as she watched my hand hungrily. I wasn't joking, this girl could eat for a whole rugby team.

But after she'd polished it off and another mug of my Java, I knew it was conversation time.

"Look..." I started, but this time she rested her hand on mine.

"I know...I owe you a proper..." she started, but I interrupted her.

"No...listen. I know you have stuff to say, but first I want to explain about Cook. I'm sure you probably think he's the epitome of a slimy love rat...and believe me, I have personal experience of THAT. But he _has_ been a good friend to me in the past..when he's not been trying to shag all my friends that is...the twat even tried it on with my fucking mother New Years Eve...he truly has _no_ off switch...thank God I came in, she's not exactly choosy, my mum on the demon cider..."

I paused then because Emily was looking at me as if I had grown two heads. I suppose not too many people joke about their mother's...err...choosiness.

"Naomi" she said in that low, husky voice which made me shift about on my chair every time I heard it. "You don't owe _me_ explanations. _I'm_ the married woman...so, whatever history you and Cook have...had...in the past isn't for you to apologise for. I was just a bit shocked that's all. My sister is just as bad in her own way. She's laid waste to a good proportion of the male population of Essex in her time...I think at one stage they were thinking of proposing her for ' _Essex Slapper of the Century_ '"

We shared a giggle at that one. I have always hated that stupid stereotype that gets thrown at you when you admit to being from Essex. It's like the myth that Irish people are all thick, or that Scottish people are terminally stingy...its just stupid and lazy thinking.

Jokes like " _What does an Essex girl wear behind her ears...her ankles_ " and " _Why do Ford Fiesta's have sun roofs...so that the Essex girl in the back seat has_ _somewhere to put her feet_ " are old, tired and bloody annoying. But if you come from this county, you get used to it. Fucking reality TV programs have a lot to answer for...

Her face got serious when we eventually stopped laughing. I turned my hand so it was holding hers above it.

"No...I need to explain about JJ...and me...and why I just left like that" she said quietly. "I had no right just turning up here. You must be feeling like you've been landed with a problem which is really all mine. We've only known each other for a few weeks...only kissed once...so why I thought you would..."

Her face crumpled adorably and I said to myself, that's enough. I scraped my chair back and walked round to her side of my kitchen table.

"Come on...I hate seeing you cry Em...come into the lounge and we can sit and talk about this properly"

She got up and let me put my arm round her shoulder, walking her through to the sitting room. Once we were seated side by side on the couch, I kept my arm round her. She didn't seem to mind, and for some reason it just felt...right.

"So...JJ...?" I started for her

Her tearful brown eyes looked up at me and she wriggled closer as she started to speak.

"I never meant to hurt him...never should have married him...but he was...no _is_...a really, really nice guy. Gentle, kind, funny, all kinds of supportive..." her eyes left mine and began to stare into the distance as she reeled off his virtues. My throat constricted when I saw the wistful look on her face.

"Steady on..." I said thickly "You sound like you're having second thoughts about leaving him Em...?"

I tried to make it sound light and careless, but it was anything but. Our 'relationship' for want of a better word, was a very new and delicate thing. Being with someone... _living_ with someone means something, I knew that.. It's always easier to go back to what you know when you're frightened or confused. All those battered wives who go back to abusive husbands, even after everyone around them is telling them they're crazy, its like Stockholm Syndrome. And JJ was hardly abusive, was he? He just fell in love with the wrong girl (I hoped). What with her overbearing sister and hell-fire mother still being in the picture, I knew this could all still go pear shaped very quickly. Emily was obviously fragile and they would seize on that like hyenas with a weak prey if their reputations were accurate.

But she shook her head firmly and squeezed my hand hard.

"No...never...he's all the things I just said and more...but in all the time we were together, I never once felt a fraction of what I felt for you the first time we kissed. It was like I'd been asleep and you woke me up. I'm fucking GAY, Naomi...always have been, always will be. I've been living a lie for too long. Coasting through a sham of a marriage, waiting for God knows what to happen. My sister has just announced she's pregnant. I saw the look on my mothers face when Katie crowed about it. She practically ordered me and Jay to get working on another little grand child straight away"

I started at that. Her face took on a haunted look. I knew there was more to come.

"And did you...get started?" I said, dreading the answer, but needing to hear it.

Her lip trembled and she took a deep shuddering breath before answering.

"I said I was through with lying...to myself and everyone else, so I'm not going to dress it up" Emily said weakly. "I _have_ slept with him since I met you...but I had and have, no intention of ever doing it again. Having a baby with someone I don't love is just...wrong" she said quietly "It's one of the reasons I left him so suddenly. I couldn't face pretending any more"

My heart thumped as her words sank in. She'd slept with him since, since?...The gorge rose in my throat and my stomach clenched in distaste. But it only lasted a second. What the fuck did I _think_ was going to happen at Chez Fitch/Jones on a normal happily married evening? She was _married_ to him. Of course they slept together. I tried hard but the effect of my mental images of him with her... _on_ her...their naked skin touching...caressing, his lovemaking making her moan that husky moan...were etched on my face, I knew it, and by the wounded look on Emily's face, she could see it clearly too. Her voice went down to a croaky whisper.

"I know you must hate me for admitting that...but it was just that once...I never want to do it again with him, _ever_...can you forgive me Naomi?"

My natural instinct was to push up those Campbell barriers against heartache. I felt as if _I_ had been betrayed, not her husband, but I knew I had no right to be angry with her. Maybe sleeping with him one last time had confirmed it in her mind, that she wanted me, not him. In any case, it was water under the bridge now. My conscience prodded me that in other circumstances, last night could have ended very differently for me too. If some sexy girl had showed an interest in me, I might have been staggering home with some random instead of going home alone. So for once in my life, I bit my tongue when several sharp remarks occurred to me. This was no time for recriminations. Yesterday was yesterday. Today is today. I took a deep breath and did what I should have done earlier.

"That's all in the past. You're here now, with me, and I'm very happy about that Em. I thought I'd lost you before we'd even begun. So enough talking...lets shower, get dressed and enjoy the rest of Sunday. We can work the hard bits out as we go"

She smiled that beautiful smile again, and I knew I had made the right choice of words.

We spent Sunday just doing couply stuff. She was right in one way, we hardly knew each other. After showering and lending her a small top and a skirt which was too small for me now, we grabbed our coats and did something I hadn't done for years, decades probably. We went down to the seafront and had a walk along the pier. It was cold, but clear, with a huge blue sky arching over the estuary. This time of year there were only a couple of hardy fishermen on the pier, watching their lines for some careless fish. At the end of the boarded walkway, over a mile out to sea, we stopped at the little café which was still open off season and had cake and tea. We watched the gulls circling above us, screeching at each other. Wrapped up in her coat with my heavy scarf and blue beanie on, she looked even more adorable than ever. We held hands, giggled at silly jokes and braved the curious stares of the odd elderly passer by.

Coming off the pier, we found a pub just off the high street and warmed ourselves up with a couple of large brandies. Our noses were red and our lips blue with cold, but I was centrally heated inside with adoration of this intensely beautiful woman who had entered my life.

When we got back to the flat, it was already getting dark. England in the depths of winter is a mostly dark place. Not properly light till 8am but then night rushes back in at 4pm. Lights were twinkling out on the river, boats setting off for distant shores, but there was only one place I wanted to be tonight, and I was here.

It wasn't till after 7 when we'd finished off an Indian takeaway I phoned for earlier, that the real world intruded again in our thoughts. Emily started shredding a lonely leftover poppadom, staring at the table cloth and only briefly answering my questions. I knew tomorrow was weighing heavy on her mind. It was on mine too, but then I didn't have to go to work in a place her mother and sister knew. I'm pretty sure she was imagining screaming rows and humiliation. I didn't want the happy atmosphere to dissipate, so I tried the only remedy I knew would take her mind off the morning.

My motive wasn't _exactly_ wholly altruistic...obviously.

"Em" I said, lifting her chin so she was facing me "Tomorrow is hours away. We can't do anything about it. But tonight is ours, OK?"

She nodded uncertainly.

"So lets make the most of it...can I take you to bed?"

I saw her eyes widen in shock first, then her pupils dilated. Her lips parted and I could see her cheeks redden as she spoke.

"I...I'd like that Naomi...a lot" she whispered as I looked into her eyes.

"Good" I said simply "You first...I'll come in after a few minutes, OK?"

She smiled gratefully at my (purposely) gallant offer. I knew she must be thinking about undressing in front of me...this time with something other than cuddles on offer. She left me in the lounge with the remains of the bottle of Shiraz we had opened with the meal. I swallowed the last mouthful, hearing her brushing her teeth in the bathroom before going into my...our...bedroom. I liked the sound of this little domestic chore. It was difficult to believe I always wanted to live on my own. She seemed to ...fit...somehow.

The bedroom light was off when I had finished cleaning my own teeth and taking my clothes off. Neither of us had worn make-up, so a splash of warm water on my face was enough. I walked into the bedroom. A small shape was under my quilt, the edge drawn up under her chin. She looked for all the world like a nervous virgin, which I suppose she was in a way. Her next words confirmed it.

"Naomi...?" she whispered softly "I've never actually...like properly... with a woman, in bed I mean _?_..."

I smiled at her nervousness. I was hardly a serial seducer of girls myself, but the heat in my lower stomach and the crinkling of my nipples told me I was excited about making love to Emily Fitch as I had ever been about sex. I hoped I could live up to her expectations.

"Then we can learn together Em" I whispered back.

Getting in beside her, I thrilled at the smoothness of her skin next to mine. We lay side by side, eyes locked together, just luxuriating in being alone. I knew I had t take the initiative...but we had all night, and I wanted this to be special for her.

The first kiss tonight was like a continuation of the last one we shared...warm, soft and endlessly addictive. The difference was this time I could feel her body...her _naked_ body...pressed against mine. I shivered in anticipation.

"Make love to me Naomi" she said hoarsely "Show me how..."

So I did...


	12. Chapter 12

Emily

She's sleeping now...beside me. Her hair is damp and tousled, which is pretty much all my doing I realised with only slight embarrassment. The three words that have been repeating in my head are starting again. It's not worrying me, its just the truth.

" _I never knew_ "

Because I didn't. All those years wondering. The briefly satisfying if ultimately sterile Emily fanny box, the clumsy if electrifying fumbles with experimental girls my own age behind bike sheds. All that stuff felt like a faded photograph now. Sepia, blurry, indistinct. A bit like the difference between that first kiss, when I honestly couldn't feel my feet while her lips were on mine and any other I had shared before. It expanded my universe. It was all so... _overwhelming_.

She took her time...teaching me that is. And every move, every stroke, every caress was like another switch in a sequence of brilliant lights being switched on one by one. Kissing her had been the most powerful sensation I had ever had before up until last night. Making _love_ with her was like the power of ten on every nerve ending, every emotion I possessed. Looking at her sleeping face now, a small smile playing on her slightly puffy lips (Oh, God, I thought, knowing why they were swollen...and my stomach clenched again) it was hard to imagine how amazing last night had been. But it had been.

I remembered fingers...fingertips...caressing my cheeks as we kissed. Trailing down my face and holding my shoulders gently. Remembered breasts...soft yet hard tipped breasts, pressed against mine. She was bigger than me there, fuller. We were touching all along our bodies, but her excitement was obvious by the nipples that were pressing against mine. My mind was whirling. It was actually happening...making love to a beautiful woman...naked in a bed, not furtive, not rushed, just...nice. No, _much_ more than nice, amazing.

She took her time, just like she promised. One kiss led to another...her tongue massaging mine. Not urgent, not demanding...leisurely. The word popped into my head. I wondered how she could be so calm about it all when my stomach, and other places, clenched rhythmically and almost humming with want. Then I must have pressed against her...there...as I writhed in her arms. She groaned, deep in her throat and jerked against me. I felt sudden heat and moisture on my thigh. The realisation that she was as excited if not more than me made another thrill rush through my body.

This time _I_ moaned and it seemed to add urgency to it all.

Then her hands were exploring. Still softly, still as gentle as before, but more searching, more curious.

When her hand cupped my breast I groaned again. Her cool fingers found and stroked my erect nipple, circling, squeezing. I jerked too then and knew that my own excitement was pressing wetly against her thigh. Our breathing sounded impossibly loud in the otherwise silent bedroom.

She pulled her mouth from mine and panted against my neck, her tongue slipping out and running up from my neck to my ear. I jerked again. How the fuck had I ever endured a mans hands on me I thought desperately, as her hands continued to explore and her mouth moved to my ear, her breath fast and hot, making me quiver.

"You're so sexy Em...so fucking _beautiful_ " she breathed and I whimpered at her words. I was beyond words, just...feeling...her against me seemed to have robbed me of speech. The best I could do was a breathless "mmmm" which just made her press against me harder.

"What do you want me to do to you Emily?" she said, squeezing my breast a little harder, making me gasp. I couldn't answer her if my life depended on it right then. I hoped my fingernails, which were now digging into her shoulders, would be answer enough.

Her hand left my breast, which made me feel like I had been abandoned, until I realised where it was heading. Then she was kissing me again, hot, wet kisses which made my head swim and my body throb. Down my side she stroked, across my stomach, which fluttered at her touch, and then she was pushing at my thigh, making my legs part for her.

I moaned again...this time louder as she found me there...wet, open...needy. Apart from a couple of adolescent fumblings and me, the only person who had ever touched me there was my husband. But not like this, not so subtly, so surely. My legs parted further as her fingers slipped around my heat, circling my clit gently, insistently. I knew if she did that for another few seconds I would be lost.

"Too soon" I groaned "Naomi...I want it to..." I wanted it to go on forever, impossible as that was.

Again, unlike any of my sexual partners before, she instinctively seem to know what I was protesting about. Her mouth pressed against my ear.

"Let it go beautiful" she panted "We have all night...this is just the first..."

I pushed back against her skilful fingers hard. If this was just the first time she was going to get me off...suddenly it didn't matter if I couldn't control myself, did it?

"Oh fuck Naomi" I almost shouted "Oh fuck...just like that...I'm going to...you're going to make me..."

"Come for me my beautiful Emily" she whispered fiercely in my ear, running her tongue round it right afterwards. That was all it took. With her fingers moving in fast, assured little circles and her tongue lapping at my ear, I lost it.

People say that orgasms can be explosive. Well, now I believe them. JJ making me come the other night had been nice...pleasant even. This was on a whole new level. As I clenched uncontrollably between my legs and her two fingers moved from circling my clit to slipping fluidly up inside me, I bucked against her wildly, my mouth open in shock at the sensations rocketing through me. Again and again I arched and cried out. It felt like this was the first real orgasm I had ever had.

When at last my body shuddered and stilled, her fingers still rigid inside me...not moving now. I had the strange, unaccountable urge to burst into tears. All that wasted _time_ , my mind screamed at me. If this was sex...why had I been stupid enough to wait all this time to discover it? My shoulders started to shake as sobs racked me. I felt her pull gently out of me and take my arms, leaning back so she could see my face. Her eyes were full of concern.

"It's not this...not... _this_ " I choked incoherently..."It's just I never...before...never come...like that?"

Her concerned face changed quickly to understanding. She held my face in her hands as I cried quietly. The faint aroma of my own body on her fingers came to me, but it didn't offend me in the least.

"Oh baby" she said softly "This is just the beginning...we're going to make each other feel like this _every_ night now...every night, Em"

The thought of how wonderful that would be made me stop crying abruptly. She was right...we really could, couldn't we?

"What about...I mean you must be...?" I asked, realising that so far, this had all been about me. She must be singing with need.

"Shhh" she breathed "We have all night...just hold me for now...OK?"

So I did, and after a few minutes, my tears dried and I was ready to do some more learning with my beautiful blonde.

We made love all night, right up until the first tendrils of light started creeping across the bedroom ceiling. I was tentative at first, but she guided my hand, my fingers until I had her shuddering and moaning my name underneath me. It was like I had been reborn. I had to do it again...and straight away. Then she showed me other things, things I had only read about before. I found that her tongue was even more agile and inventive than her fingers. The first time she made me come like that, my legs quivering and my hips bucking up towards her mouth, I actually saw stars. What made it even more amazing was the sight of her icy blue eyes watching my face intently from down there, between my wide spread legs. I hope her neighbours were deep sleepers, I could hear my own cries bouncing back hoarsely from the bedroom wall as I clutched at her hair and pushed up to where her tongue was tormenting me beyond reason.

When I nervously replicated her oral loving, I know I must have been clumsy and disjointed in my attempts, but judging by the satisfied smile she gave me when I moved up her body to kiss her afterwards, it was effective at least.

We slept for no more than a few minutes all night, but by morning I felt as refreshed as if I had been asleep all night. My body hummed with pure satisfaction.

It was only when the soft sound of classical music began to play on the clock radio, that our spell was broken. It was 7 am...and the world was waiting out there.

After showering and putting on our clothes, which felt alien and uncomfortable after being blissfully naked for so long, we both drank our coffee in silence, alone with our own thoughts. We both knew today was going to be hard for all sorts of reasons.

Switching my phone on for the first time since I had dropped onto Naomi's front doorstep last night, I waited for the messages and calls to register. I wasn't to be disappointed.

 _Mum...5 calls_

 _Mum...3 messages_

 _Katie...11 calls_

 _Katie...15 messages._

 _JJ...3 calls_

I had the feeling today had already peaked. It was downhill all the way now...


	13. Chapter 13

Naomi

We held hands all the way up to Fenchurch Street. And, surprise, surprise, it was _me_ who initiated it...the hand holding, I mean. I knew today would probably be a bitch for Em...so I tried to give her all the moral support I could. I'm not one for PDA's as Cook and his few predecessors could tell you. Snogging in public, nope. Ditto for drunken groping, unless it was in a locked cubicle or out of sight behind some scummy club. And that went for either sex. Emily might be the innocent in this relationship (although last night went a loooong way towards adapting that description) but I was no experienced seducer of women, let alone married women. When I'd been with another woman before, it was normally a brief, if satisfying torrid encounter. But one thing last night had taught me (apart from the fact that Emily makes such adorable little _huh_ , _huh_ sounds when she's getting close to...oh fuck, stop that _right_ now, brain) was that this was going to be anything _but_ an emotion free journey. Waking up with her looking at me this morning was scary. I mean really, run for your life scary. Not that I did of course. My instincts might have been telling me to get out of Dodge, pronto, but she brings out a softer, soppier side in me which frightens the hell out of me. That angelic face has power.

So when we found a seat ...this time side by side instead of opposite each other... I found myself first resting my hand on her small cold one before gently gripping her fingers with mine. She was trembling a bit. I suppose being on the train, in the midst of the usual throng of indifferent commuters, made her realise that real life was upon us now. All _I_ had to do was go to work, put in a reasonable shift and worry about her all day. She told me that both her sister and mother knew where she worked, so there was a better than even chance one or the other would turn up at some stage. Ignoring texts and calls from them is one thing, but if they arrived in person, it wasn't something to be easily avoided, was it?

And that was without the reluctant cuckold. JJ. The three calls he had put in to her phone didn't seem like the reaction of a 'resigned to defeat' husband. Maybe the other Fitches had got at him overnight. Maybe he had second thoughts about just meekly letting her go like that. Either way, the attack was on three fronts now, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it, short of camping out in front of her offices and manning a barricade.

No, she knew and _I_ knew that she would just have to be brave, face them all and come out the other side. Sounds simple doesn't it?

It was hard to talk at all on the busy train. OK, most early morning commuters don't say much themselves. Over half are plugged into iPhone, some sort of tablet or an iPod. The others are either reading a paper or staring sightlessly out into the gloomy damp countryside as it whizzes past. But they all have ears. The plugged in brigade might not be listening, but the rest are. A confidential conversation is impossible when the carriage is rammed like this morning.

We'd talked a bit in my car, on the way to the station, but I could tell she was already closing off, steeling herself for the day ahead, so we just shared a few inconsequential meaningless platitudes before I pulled into the station car park. Getting out, we walked together in the frigid air, towards the lights of Central Platform One, arm in arm. At least she wasn't closing off from physical contact. I needed that as much as her.

"Emily?" I tried one last time before we were swallowed up by the commuter crowd "You know we _could_ just say fuck 'em and take the day off? Go to the zoo, or the Planetarium...just enjoy the day being together...you don't _have_ to face it all right now?"

I turned and looked at her small, pinched face beside me. She had that thousand yard stare look in her eyes, which I hated on sight. She might be next to me, but she was withdrawing at a rate of knots. Having never met Jenna or Katie Fitch..let alone JJ, I had no idea what today was going to bring, but by the look on Emily's face, it was nothing to look forward to. She shook her head firmly and stared back at my worried face.

"Naomi...I wish I could...but I have to face them sometime. Yesterday, and ...last night...was just...amazing" she blushed at what I'm sure was the sort of memory I had been smiling to myself over in the shower this morning "...and I wish we could live in that lovely bubble forever. But they won't give up. I know my sister and worse, my mother too well. JJ would have been straight on the phone to Katie as soon as I left home. And Katie would have phoned Jenna the second JJ hung up. My mother has always had a soft spot for Jay..she'll be livid with me"

"So fucking what Em" I said sharply, knowing it was wrong for me to get mad. OK, I have been very lucky, if that's the right word, with my own mother. MY mum wouldn't turn a hair at the thought of me loving a girl. Fuck, if I was still living at home she would probably offer to give up her double bed so that we could have maximum shagging room.

"Your mum and your sister have to be told that you're not 14. You're a grown woman, old enough to decide what she wants to be by herself. You're _gay_ Emily...and it's time to let go of that closet door. I lo...I mean I _like_ you a lot...and I want to be with you all the time...and I hope you feel the same way?"

Emily blinked up at me and tried a weak smile. My heart lurched at how sad she looked.

"Yeah...I know..." she said in a tiny voice "I AM gay. I know that now. But my mother has a complete mental block at the very idea of one of her precious twins being 'different'. Once, when we were watching some documentary at home, before I left to, you know, get married to Jay, she started telling me that this country should be more like fucking Russia, where that arsehole thug Putin is outlawing homosexuality completely...arresting pride protesters and stuff?"

"Jesus" I breathed as we started to walk up the steps into the ticket hall. "It's like 1945 in your parents house, isn't it?"

"Pretty much" she said miserably "So I'll never persuade her that what we're doing is normal. She thinks gay people are freaks, outcasts. I'm not even going to try to justify myself to her. And Katie...well, let's just say she goes along with my mother because that way she gets the lions share of anything that's going. Money, time, affection. My sister is about as unlike me as you could ever imagine twins to be. She'll just back up my mother to the hilt, hoping to get the benefit later"

"Fuck" I said, my mouth open "Must have been like growing up with Katie Price and Messalina"

At least that got a smile, even if it was a small one.

And then we were on the train and after an hour or so sitting together silently, fingers entwined, people started to get up and fumble for their season tickets.

We exited the station in a surge of people trying to be first onto the pavement. I held onto Emily's hand as they brushed past us. Then I bent down so my mouth was near her small pink ear. Yet again, my treacherous libido surged as I remember whispering instructions into that pretty shell as she tried to replicate my first caresses on her body. It wasn't the cold that made either of us shiver. I'm guessing she remembered too.

"Remember Em...the offer still stands. If it gets too much...if you need to escape. Call me straight away...I'll leave my phone on vibrate next to me on the desk. One call and I'll meet you wherever. We can go somewhere, just us two. Otherwise, meet me here, after you finish work. I'll tell my boss I need to finish early today...OK?"

She nodded and tried another smile. It didn't _quite_ reach her eyes.

"K" she whispered "Oh and Naomi?...I lo... _like_ you very much too" she said seriously, with just the hint of a smirk at the edges of her pretty mouth.

I knew what she meant. The slip of the tongue I almost made earlier was being aimed right back at me.

I watched her small body disappear into the crowd until I couldn't see her any more.

XXX

By 12 o clock, when work was settling down into just the odd call and email to answer, I checked my phone for the twentieth time. Nothing. I sighed. Perhaps she was just up to her neck in whatever junior accountants spend their days doing? Chances were her mother and sister would leave hostilities until after work. Two o clock came and went without any call or text. By three, I couldn't stand it any longer. My call went to voice mail straight away, so I guessed she had turned it off in case they harassed her during the working day. So I shot off a quick text before going into my afternoon meeting with a client.

" _Thinking of you Em. Call me to let me know things are OK? xx"_

Four o clock, after I came out of my meeting I checked again. Nada. I sighed again. Hopefully whatever had happened today had resolved it. I decided to bury my head in some long overdue paperwork until I knocked off at 5.30. I usually worked until well after 6, but I was determined to meet Emily at the station tonight.

After shooting a hurried goodbye to my colleagues, I put on my heavy wool coat and scarf and left the building. It was raining, which didn't improve my mood. I tried another call before I left the shelter of the lobby, but got voice mail again. A growing sense of unease was making me shiver more than the biting cold and damp.

I rushed through the escaping lemmings making their way to Fenchurch Street Station grumpily. I never did like crowds much, which made my choice of occupation in one of the busiest cities on earth a bit dumb, but tonight was worse than usual. Eventually, I crowded into the concourse and upstairs to the platforms, searching all the time for a small dark haired girl in a red coat. Nothing.

I located the platform for Southend and planted myself in the middle, so I could scan up and down as the other passengers emerged from the other entrances. 'Our' train was due in any second, but I reckoned that Emily would be doing the same as me, so I didn't move too much, only doing so when some inconsiderate fucker blocked my view.

The train arrived empty and I watched as people got on. Although the station is at its busiest this time of night, I knew if I stood near the platform edge, I would be able to see if she appeared. Nothing.

After about 5 minutes, with the train full to bursting, I considered walking up and down it, to peering into each carriage, but dismissed that idea as stupid. She wouldn't just get on without trying to spot me, would she?

So I waited. The trains came in one after the other. It seemed that the population of a small town got on every time, but no sign of her. Soon it was time for my 'own' train. It arrived at twenty past six. Fewer people were now crowding onto the platform, so it was easier to see up and down. Nothing.

By ten to seven, it was obvious I had missed her somehow. I tried her phone again. Nothing. My heart was down in my boots, but still I told myself I had just missed her. I decided to get the next but one train home. Maybe she had thrown her phone away, to stop her mother and sister pestering her? Maybe she was at home, waiting for me? I'd given her a key this morning after all. It seemed as unlikely as it sounded to me, but I was getting desperate by now. As the next train pulled in and people got on, I decided to get a coffee. My feet were freezing and my teeth chattering. Standing on a frigid platform wasn't pleasant. I trudged back down the platform towards the overpriced concession with my head down, not even looking for her now.

I don't know what made me look up in the end. The train was just whirring into life ready for departure, doors already closed The electric motors were going into overdrive as they tried to keep the internal heating on full and pull away at the same time. But I did look up. And wished I hadn't. In the very last carriage, right by the rearmost window, stood Emily, staring miserably out at the dreary station. But she wasn't alone...beside her, with a face like thunder, stood what was unmistakeably her mother. Similar to her daughter, but taller, more angular, severe. And just to make it even more obvious they were all related, on the other side of my 'girlfriend' holding onto her sleeve tightly, as if she was making sure her twin didn't leap from the train despite the closed doors, her sister. Again, the similarities were striking. Maybe rounder faced, less attractive, but it was definitely Katie.

I stared, frozen to the spot, and as the train inched forward, I saw Emily finally notice me standing there looking at her. I opened my mouth to, I don't know, shout..scream? But she just looked at me dully, and shook her head, then she looked down at the floor.

I watched the red lights on the back of the train disappear into the blackness at the end of the platform. She was gone. And with her all my hopes and dreams.


	14. Chapter 14

Naomi

I bought myself a coffee anyway, sitting alone in that draughty station drink concession while hundreds of homeward bound lemmings milled aimlessly about before getting on trains and disappearing into the night. I didn't taste it, barely registering the taste at all, but my core body temperature said thank you for the lift.

Shame my heart was as frozen as my feet.

I eventually got on the 8.25 to Southend. No need to rush any more, was there? It wasn't until I was on the train, speeding through the chilled and monochrome countryside, that I realised a very important point. I actually had _no_ idea where Emily lived. I knew it was in Westcliff, less than a mile from my apartment she'd said. But Southend is a big place. About 175,000 people live there. OK, I knew she lived in an apartment block, probably on the seafront, or close to it. Great. That narrows it down to about 500 properties, let alone individual apartments. So there was no way I was going to be able to camp out in her car park, mooning up at her apartment like Juliet pining for her Juliet. And that's apart from the small but important fact that she had her own pet attack dogs in residence. I'm sure one glimpse of me looking up with a tear stained face and Jenna bitch and Katie bitch would be tumbling downstairs, burning brands and pitchforks at the ready.

No, I was fucked as far as finding her, certainly in the near future. If her phone was either off voluntarily or confiscated, I had no way of contacting her. I ghost walked to my car and somehow found myself parking up after the train deposited me at my stop. I got upstairs and closed the door behind me. Thank God the central heating had kicked in at 5pm as usual. The apartment was at least cosy and snug. There was only one cure for what ailed me, and luckily I had both items in abundance. Living alone means always having the ingredients for self indulgent wallowing to hand.

Wine, _check_. Dark chocolate, _check_.

I had no appetite for actual food, but after stripping my works clothes off and dropping them in the linen basket, I had a ten minute hot shower, before wrapping myself inside a thick towelling dressing gown (bought, not stolen from the Sheraton in Krakow last year) and curled up on the sofa to have a good wallow.

I opened the second bottle of Margeaux at about 11.30. I knew I shouldn't, after all I was still supposed to be at my desk at 9 tomorrow, but I felt like I deserved it. Every scenario and possibility for tonight's little drama played out in my head in sickening clarity. She'd obviously been hijacked by her Gorgon of a mother, aided by the sycophantic twin sister. That much was obvious. But how when and where were unknown parts of the equation. I suppose it didn't matter much anyway, the result was the same, but it didn't stop me cursing myself over and over for not being firmer about us taking a day out to think things through. When I looked back, it seemed obvious that Monday was always going to be 'trap Emily' day. Her husband would have spent Sunday conferring with the Witches of Eastwick and their plan to grab her as soon as she left the safety of my place was blindingly obvious too.

If we had spent the day at The Planetarium, or even just window shopping, it would have put a sizeable spanner in the Fitch Bitch's works. They wouldn't have known how long we were likely to be AWOL, so they might...just _might_ have given up...even for a short while. I should have seized the day and spirited her away with me. There was always my mums place in Bristol. Since she's been away, screwing on every beach in India or whatever she said before she left, the place has been empty. Cold, yes, modern comfort free, but safe.

I didn't finish the second bottle, which I was grateful for the next morning. My head thumped and my dry mouth made me retch, but two Paramols and a large tumbler of freshly squeezed orange juice got me back to semi normal inside half an hour. I cleared away the two family sized Bourneville Plain wrappers and the wine bottles quickly before my nostrils had the chance to pick up the stale aroma of last nights indulgence. Chocolate and red wine do the trick if rapid oblivion and a brutal sugar rush is all you want, but it plays hell with the stomach and the fruit juice and tablets barely stayed down with a determined effort.

The only small bit of good news was that it was my boss's day off. She was flying out to Sierra Leone on Wednesday, and was taking Tuesday to pack and prepare. So I had no heavy meetings or presentations. Just a boring day tidying up paperwork and taking a few conference calls, the first of which wasn't till after lunch.

So I decided to do something positive. Nothing too dramatic. After all, having left another three voice mails and texts on Emily's unresponsive phone, I was no closer to hearing from her. The recorded message didn't say the phone was out of service or cut off, so I clung to the hope that she would eventually get the chance to answer me. She was a grown woman for fucks sake, I grumbled on the way to the station, they can't keep her an actual prisoner for Christ's sake...it's 2017, not 1817.

By the time I had been at work for an hour, I knew I had to do something. Anything. I was sleep walking through my admin, fucking up every five minutes because my mind was wandering constantly. My PA, Maddie noticed straight away something was off.

"Are you sickening for something Naomi" she asked quietly when she came in to find two cups of undrunk coffee on my desk. "It's not like you to shun caffeine"

I smiled at her weakly. I was in no mood for small talk, but Maddie was a solid sort. She was a good ten years older than me, married to a City solicitor and had the air of someone who could cope with just about anything life threw at her. Not that I was about to burden her with any of the gory details of my sad sex life. She, like Anthea knew I was occasionally...unconventional...in my partner choices. One drunken New Years Eve, she had surprised me in the stationery cupboard with a rather delicious skinny blonde temp called Maisie, with big blue eyes and spectacular tits. We hadn't actually _done_ the dirty deed yet, but it was in the post... buttons and zips were...being rearranged, and smeared lipstick is a bit of a give-away. But true to Maddie's code of never explain, never complain, she just backed out with a wry smile and never mentioned it to me or anyone else again. The temp got a bit flustered at being caught with her hand in a senior partners pants, but after another two vodka's back downstairs we eventually sealed the deal in the executive loo's on the fifth floor an hour later. Never saw her again, but I know she enjoyed it as much as me. She certainly made enough racket, and that loo door was never the same afterwards... the hinge squeaked badly.

But enough of the illicit memories. I had a far bigger problem to deal with than sexually experimental teenage temps. I needed to do something concrete about finding Emily Fitch.

"Actually Maddie..could you do me a favour?" I asked

"Name it" she said briskly, taking out her ever present small notepad and black Mont Blanc fountain pen.

"You won't need that" I said quietly "It's more of a personal favour really. I need to duck out for an hour or so. Anthea isn't likely to ring today. Could I ask you to field any other calls and emails until say...2 o clock? I need to go out and...well, I just need to go out?"

Her eyes widened for a second, but ever the professional, she kept her face neutral.

"Sure...anything else I can do...?" she said

I thought about that. There probably was.

"Actually, I'm looking for an accountant" I said, already pushing paperwork aside and reaching under my desk to find my bag.

"That won't be too hard" she smiled politely "There are about a hundred of those ten feet from the front door?"

I realised how daft that statement was as soon as it was out of my mouth and made a tight expression with my mouth. Fucking idiot, I though...you'll need to give her the name of the accountants. I knew Emily worked in Tower Hill. Then it hit me...she'd given me a card the other night, the one with her phone number on it. I dug out my purse and scrabbled around inside it. Yep, there it was ' _P & Co LLP_' inscribed ' _UK and Oriental Business Sector_ '

And of course, an address. I looked up at Maddie, wincing at my own stupidity.

"Actually...I've got a card here...its Artichoke Hill E1...is that far, do you know?"

Being Maddie, she did. It was a fair walk, so I took a cab. The somewhat grimy black cab dropped me right outside. It was a typical anonymous block in brick and blue facings. Right next to the old dock buildings on Pennington Street. Luckily, the rain of the past 24 hours had relented and it was a bright, if still cold day. The sunshine had the effect of lightening my mood. Silly me.

I buzzed the reception button after spending a couple of minutes searching for the actual front door. Stupid architects. The building might be on Artichoke Hill, but the fucking front door was round the corner. Twats, I thought uncharitably as I waited for the usual bored receptionist to answer.

"Yes..." she said (I could almost hear the nail brush working)

"I have an appointment with Miss Fitch...Emily Fitch at P & Co" I lied smoothly "My name is Campbell...Naomi Campbell?"

"Are you certain?" she said, disdain in her voice even through the tinny speaker.

I stayed silent. Sometimes its better not to dig yourself deeper. My name is a curse without a blessing attached. I had no idea of Emily's status at P & Co...maybe she never got visitors, but my given name is always reliably up for a giggle. But then the door clicked and a harsh buzzer reminded me to push it open.

The lobby was like every other office lobby in town, apart from the really big finance houses and banks. They, of course were resplendent in acres of marble, brushed chrome and fine leather. All paid for by their conniving, fraudulent casino exchange dealing arms. No, this was on a more modest, if still upmarket scale. It was certainly better than my own slightly shabby block.

As expected, the painfully thin teenage receptionist was sitting behind a identikit glass and steel desk, an elevated pristine white Mac screen and curved keyboard in front of her. She was dark, I guessed Middle Eastern. Her expensive, if well overdone makeup making her look like she was auditioning for a talent show. Her manicured eyebrow arched quizzically as she watched me walk across the laminated floor, my heels clicking busily.

"Er...Emily Fitch...which floor?" I said, more confidently than I felt.

"I'll call up, Miss...err...Campbell?" she said brightly, tapping on the keyboard, presumably for the extension number. "She's very popular this week...doesn't normally get visitors...and now three in two days?"

My heart sank at that. I knew very well who the last two 'visitors' had been.

There was a murmur in her headphones as she announced me on her dinky little microphone which curved round her head elegantly. I saw her brow crease and she looked sharply up at me before nodding (never works for me on the phone, but what the fuck do I know?)

"Right" she said, her face hardening "I'll tell the visitor, Mr Askew"

She clicked decisively on the keyboard, releasing the line and arranged her face in what I'm sure she thought was a professional smile. She looked more like a funeral director about to give a client the final bill, but I let that slide.

"Mr Askew is coming down...I think there's a bit of a problem?"

My insides clenched at that, and not in a nice way. Problem?

The middle aged guy in a striped shirt and rumpled grey suit trousers certainly looked like an accountant. His receding hair was slightly ruffled at the back, as if he had spent rather too long with his head resting on the back of his office chair, but I kept my observations to myself.

"Miss...err Campbell?" he said briskly..."Looking for Emily Fitch...?"

I nodded. Hopefully my little pocket sized princess was upstairs and I could finally find out what the hell was going on.

"She's not in today, I'm afraid...won't be in for the rest of the week actually. Very inconvenient, given our workload at the moment...but her mother said it was a family emergency...some sort of medical matter?...Is this a business call, Miss Campbell?...there's nothing in Emily's diary...not that she normally sees clients at the office...not really her field"

He stood there, rubbing the back of his head and looking everywhere but into my eyes. If I didn't know better. I'd say he'd been coached. Which was a bit surprising really. Emily worked here, but unless the Fitches were shareholders or something, I couldn't see why he was lying to me. Because he _was_ … lying I mean.

Not that I thought she was here. By the reaction of him and the receptionist, it was obvious she wasn't, but family emergency?

"No...its personal" I said flatly "And I really need to know where Miss Fitch is. It's very important...Mr...Askew?"

"Hmmmm...yes, I see. Very awkward Miss Campbell. I don't like getting involved in colleagues personal lives, you understand, but her mother..." he tailed off lamely.

"...is rather demanding...?" I finished for him.

"Quite" he said, still rubbing the back of his head. I saw now why he had a follicle problem.

"I know this is a bit unusual...but I really _do_ need to speak to her Mr Askew" I wheedled, hoping his unease would work in my favour "Would it be possible for you to give me her home address?"

I knew it was unlikely, but you have to try, don't you?

"Out of the question" he said quickly "...anyway, if you're a _close_ friend.." (he emphasised the word close, which told me that Jenna Fitch had left him in no doubt about my status in Emily's life) "Shouldn't you already have that sort of information?"

I could feel the receptionist listening intently over my shoulder and knew I was getting nowhere fast with Mr tonsorially challenged. I decide to cut my losses.

"Well, thanks anyway" I said, plastic smile firmly in place "I'm sure I'll track her down"

He scooted back up the open plan glass and chrome stairs as if I was running after him. I turned to go, meaning to pass the nosy receptionist without a word. If she wanted to eaves drop, I wasn't going to give her a round of applause on the way out. But then I got a shock.

"Miss Campbell?" she said quickly as I went to hurry past her. I turned and saw she was holding out a piece of paper.

I stared at her.

"I know Emily a little bit...she's very sweet and a bit shy. But she left with that horrible woman and her sister yesterday looking like she was going to her own funeral. I _really_ shouldn't do this...but what the hell. This job is boring as hell. And you look like you really need to talk to her?"

I could have been knocked down by a breath of wind at that. Well blow bubbles up my balls and call me Shirley, as Cook memorably says. I take all the nasty things I thought about this kid back. I took the piece of paper from her manicured hand and looked at her properly for the first time.

"That's really kind of you...uh?" I said quietly

"Sonia" she said and gave me the first genuine smile I had received in this place.

"It's Sonia...and despite what you probably thought coming in...I am a human being...and..."

"And...?" I said, crumpling the paper up into my pocket.

She looked me steadily up and down in a gesture I recognised instantly. Ahh...

"And Emily is a _very_ lucky girl...despite her horrid mum...good luck finding her Naomi"

She smiled openly as I grinned at her. Well fuck me, I thought...a sister. Who would have known?

"Thanks Sonia" I said happily "I really mean that"

I left then, passing another besuited clone coming in. As the door closed behind me I could hear Sonia's carefully manufactured corporate greeting. It was nice to know a real human being lived inside that perfectly cultivated exterior.

It wasn't until I had been standing for five minutes outside, waiting for the cab I had phoned, that I took out the note. In large letters, the note read.

 _'Emily Fitch 16 The Leas, Westcliff on Sea. **GOOD LUCK x**!'_

So now I knew where she lived. I just hoped that was the second bit of good luck I needed...


	15. Chapter 15

Emily

JJ does his usual semi distracted faffing about as we prepare to go to bed. He never seems to change his routine, but always looks like he's forgotten how. Clean teeth with electric toothbrush for exactly five minutes (to the second..and yes, I've checked), put on clean pyjamas, place weighty paperback book carefully on bedside cupboard (which is never actually read) plump up pillow so its military straight and then sit on bed, looking at me as I get ready to join him. Tonight is a _little_ different of course.

Having left him sitting stunned and tearful on the couch on Saturday, then spending that night and next day making love over and over and generally having carefree fun with Naomi...it's not _exactly_ business as usual at Chez Fitch-Jones, is it?

So why am I even here, I hear you ask? Well, one reason is sitting in my lounge, still grumbling spitefully about having to sleep on the couch. My sister, treacherous bitch. The other is moving about in the spare bedroom, doing whatever my mother actually does before turning in for the night. My brother James used to joke that she was probably tidying the red satin sheets in the coffin, before settling down on her back to sleep with her eyes open like Christopher Lee used to do in Dracula films. I used to find that funny...not any more. I wouldn't be at _all_ surprised if that was actually true.

I knew they would catch me at work on Monday of course. I spent the entire morning alternately checking, but not answering, my phone and throwing anxious glances at the office door. My mother knows how to make an entrance and boy did she have a good reason for a full scale Fitch flounce today. But just when I thought I might get away with it (fool that I am) the reception buzzer went on our admin girl Zoe's desk and by the way she looked up at me immediately, I knew it was Cruella herself... Dalmatian puppies all over the world shivered in fright. She wasn't on her own of course. It was usual for my sister to accompany the Queen Bitch on any hunting expeditions outside Fitch Towers. And I wasn't to be disappointed today.

Kevin Askew, my dandruff garlanded department boss, walked over after he had talked briefly to Zoe and stage whispered in my ear that I might prefer to meet my doom downstairs instead of, as he put it ' _airing family grievances in public?_ '. I don't think it gets more public than the lobby of a five storey office block, but who was I to argue with him?

I stood up, only shaking a little, because I had been expecting this after all, and made my way out of the office, ignoring the curious stares and semi audible curious whispers. My mother had only visited me here once before, when JJ and I had had a rare full scale argument and I was briefly sleeping on the couch. She always assumed that it was her place, as matriarch of the Fitch brood, to sort out any problems in the family. Not that anyone ever got a choice in the matter, of course. But everyone here remembered her...oh yeah.

As I started to descend the several flights of open plan glass and steel stairway, I could see her and Katie in the lobby, whispering together. Macbeth is missing two of its witches, I thought. Sonia the downstairs receptionist, was looking up at me, her face showing her unease at the proximity of Cinderella's sisters. Despite her sometimes superficial manner and Essex girl choice in cosmetics, she wasn't a bad sort at all. She surprised me last Christmas, when we had a small departmental 'party' in the directors cavernous offices, by confiding in me that she was actually bisexual. Stupid me, I never even considered it before, but afterwards, when I got home, only slightly tanked from the abundance of champagne on offer, I realised she had singled me out to confess to for a good reason. The dumbest would be lesbian in the world, me...those subtle brushes of her body against mine...the time she reached up and tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear...she was coming on to me. And worse (or better really I suppose) she thought _I_ was gay too...Sadly I got the memo too late to take advantage.

Which of course I am... gay I mean. Now I know it for definite. Only one night of unbridled passion with Naomi so far...but now I _know_...don't I? That night in her bed made up for a hundred routine hetero experiences, a thousand passionless kisses with my actual husband. Now I knew that missionary sex with Jay every other week, a blow job for his birthday and maybe even him having me on my hands and knees if we were on holiday and I was suitably pissed enough, wasn't all there was to sex. In fact it wasn't anything at all. Just a sterile, mechanical footnote. Making love to and _with_ Naomi was so overwhelming, so blissfully satisfying, I knew it was the only contact with another human being I ever needed in future. That slip of the tongue, when she almost told me she loved me, before correcting herself, told me everything I needed to know about where this relationship is...was...heading. Until real life intruded in the shape of my fucking mother that is.

When I got down to the first floor landing, she stopped whispering fiercely to Katie and caught my eye. I felt like I was 12 again. Her disapproval was something we had all got used to over the years. Me more than most. With Katie it was the constant revolving door boyfriend issue, but that was normally forgiven after Katie employed her patented 'butter up mother' routine. With James, his outbursts about whatever sad and crude proclamation Gordon McPherson had come out with that week were generally met with a slap round the head, or an instruction for my father to employ 'naughty bar' tactics.

But with me, it was always the sad shake of the head, the disappointed look.

"Oh _Emily_ " she used to say, looking down on me "What IS to become of you girl?"

I learned to live with that constant sense of shame at my inability to please her.

And don't even start on her response to my brief if pleasant pubescent flirtation with the next door neighbours daughter Ella. It never really got past longing looks and 'homework' sessions which involved practising clumsy French kissing techniques (both of us I know had no intention _whatsoever_ of using that practise on any spotty adolescent boys in the area, (Ella turned out to be actively gay less than a year later...steady girlfriend and everything, lucky bitch)

"I _refuse_ to have one of my daughters behave in that unspeakable, deviant manner" my mother said as I cringed in front of her. Ella's mum having caught us 'practising' one wet afternoon. HER mum of course, wasn't fazed by it at all, and only mentioned it to my mother in a sort of 'girls will be girls' way normal people do when faced with their adolescent offspring experimenting with a friend. But my mother reacted as if I had been found performing cunnilingus on Rihanna in Parliament Square.

"Just you _wait_ till I tell your father, my girl" she spat spitefully. Oh great, I thought dully, now I'll get the 'despicable me' treatment twice over.

"I didn't raise either of my twins to behave like that. Why can't you be more like Katie...go out with nice... boys?"

My sister, of course, stood there with a triumphant look on her face, knowing that even if mum discovered her sucking off an orderly line of students next week, after _this_ she would still have the trump card.

"Go straight to your room and don't come back down here until you've had a good think about what a disgusting thing you've just done. No daughter of mine is going to be a...a... _lesbian_ " she grated, her face a mask of horror at the very thought.

So being here, now, just about to go to bed with my husband, after being grilled for hours by my mother and sister about where I'd been, what I'd been doing and who with for the weekend, you might well ask what happened to make me do it.

The venom and disgust I got in spades in the lobby at work, and all afternoon, when I was forced to accompany them to a hotel, would you believe, which my mother had booked a room in so that she could bring every weapon in her armoury to bear. That might have had something to do with my weak compliance.

I was a freak, a deviant, confused, disgusting, easily led...etc etc. Pretty much every insult a straight person could throw at a gay one. My sister chipped in with the odd barb, but mostly she sat with the same smirk on her face she'd had when I got caught kissing Ella Watkins at 14. Once again, Katie was top dog and she was determined to squeeze every ounce of profit from it. I could see the little cash register in her brain totting up how many shopping trips this would al be worth in the long run. My mothers gold Amex card would certainly know all about it.

Then Jenna moved on to other areas. Who _was_ this woman who had corrupted me? And the cruellest trick of all. The guilt card. JJ was apparently so distraught he couldn't even _go_ to work (that was intended to reflect badly on me for being callous enough to even turn up at my workplace)

After a couple of hours cajoling, threatening, insulting and crocodile tears, I wavered. Not enough to admit I had got it wrong, but enough to agree to go back to my old apartment and talk it through 'properly' with my husband.

Which is why I'm here now. My phone has mysteriously disappeared, probably at the bottom of my mothers overnight case. After JJ and I were left alone to 'sort things out' I cried a lot, he cried a lot more and the guilt thing started to work. The night with Naomi seemed like a hundred years ago already. Another lifetime. Three times, while we sat on the couch, me trying patiently to explain that it wasn't his fault, and not really mine either. I told him I loved him...but I wasn't IN love with him. How could I be, I was gay, I said for the twentieth time.

"B...but Ems..." he stuttered, wiping his eyes "Why did you marry me at _all_ then. I thought...I thought things were getting better. Specially after...you know, the other night. I know you enjoyed that"

I shuddered as I remembered climaxing under him, all the time imagining it wasn't his dick inside me, but Naomi's stiff and knowing fingers. How the fuck do you tell your husband THAT?

"Jay" I said, as patiently as I could "One nights...brief pleasure...can't make up for the fact that I am strongly attracted to women, not men. I married you for the same reason I'm here tonight. Not because I want to, but because my mother will not accept the fact that her youngest twin is a lesbian. I've lived a lie too long Jay. I am really, really fond of you, but us staying married isn't fair on either of us. I need to be on my own for a while, sort myself out. You need to realise that there is someone out there who can really make you happy, but it isn't me. How many nights have we spent in this bed...and one night where I, well ….lose control...isn't going to make up for the fact that you just have the wrong equipment. It's not your fault, or mine. I'm gay JJ, and I have been since I was old enough to know what it meant"

I stopped for breath and watched his face for a reaction. He seemed genuinely unable to process what I was saying. For a guy who lived religiously by his own rules, doing the same things every day in the same way, I suppose this was a curve ball that he just couldn't handle.

"OK..." he said finally, and I puffed out a breath I didn't remember holding "You're gay...but we're _married_ Em...we have a life together. How about we sleep on it tonight. You stay here...and in the morning we can talk again"

I goggled at him in disbelief.

"Jay...have you heard a word I've said? My mother and sister basically frogmarched me here. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking home!" He started at that, I _never_ swore in front of him. "Why would I want to stay here now?

"Because its too late to go anywhere else?" he said reasonably. " Look Emily...stay here tonight. Its freezing out. Your mum and Katie are stopping over...just until things are OK between us...we can talk more in the morning"

I sighed deeply. All I wanted was to go ho...to Naomi's. The last I'd seen of her was that shocked face on Fenchurch Street Station, watching me disappear into the night with my mum and sister either side of me. She would be devastated, and worse, she'd have no idea where I was. No phone meant I had no way of contacting her either. She might have decided to stay in London, go out, get pissed (worse still...get laid by some random). It was hopeless. My mother and sister were on full alert. Even if I could sneak out, the chances are Naomi wouldn't even be at home tonight.

It all seemed so reasonable at the time. Stay here overnight, get up early and make a dash for freedom. If I pretended to be unsure what to do, there was more chance of catching the three of them with their guard down, yeah?

So...stupidly as it turned out...I agreed to JJ's request. My mothers face was a picture when we announced I would be staying here overnight to 'sort things out'.

I wasn't thinking very clearly, otherwise I would have realised that voluntarily spending another night in my husbands bed might be misunderstood by someone not a million miles away, but more of that later.

So there I was, getting into bed with a man I didn't want to stay with, with my mother and treacherous sister taking guard outside.

I give him his due. He didn't try anything on. He just kissed me on the cheek before rolling over and soon his breathing evened out again. JJ never did need much time to drop off. Unlike me. I laid on my back with my hands by my side, looking at the recently decorated ceiling. What the fuck had I done, I thought. Being here, now, was the very last thing I needed or wanted. Once again, I cursed myself for being a stupid, compliant bitch. My mum had got her way yet again...JJ probably thought staying here was my way of surrendering gracefully. Fuck.

I woke from a fitful doze about 3.30 am. It was pitch black in the room. I could hear faint snoring from the lounge, but nothing from my mothers room. I wouldn't have put it past her to be sitting up in bed in her black cloak, waiting for any sign of my bedroom door opening. We have an en suite, so I couldn't even use the excuse of a bathroom trip.

I must have dropped off again, because when I woke up properly it was light, which meant it was way after 8. Winters go on and on in England and at this time of year, it doesn't get light till nearly 8 o clock. I sat up quickly. JJ was still asleep beside me, his face turned away. My heart was thumping and my mouth dry. No sign of any movement outside, so I crept out of bed, splashed water on my face in the en-suite and dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. My mother had told my boss some bullshit about my father being seriously ill so I wasn't expected at work for the rest of the week. I had about £15 in my purse and my credit cards. It was now or never. Carefully, I opened the bedroom door and peered out. I could still hear Katie's snores from the lounge, and my mothers bedroom door was firmly closed. Slipping on my winter boots and coat, I grabbed a scarf from the hanger by the front door and inch by inch, slid the heavy external door open. Closing it behind me, I let out a long breath. Short of Jenna and Katie rugby tackling me on the stairs, I was free.

I had an anxious wait for the lift, but there was no sign of pursuit yet. My Mini was still in the car park, covered in icy frost. Leaving yesterday with Naomi (God, that felt like a thousand years ago) I hadn't needed my car. She started first twist of the key and I thanked God that I'd had that 15,000 mile service last month. She's never let me down and I didn't want to think about the consequences if she had this morning.

Easing out of my space towards the road, I glanced up at our apartment. I almost stalled the car. Looking down at me, with a face like thunder, silent words being mimed behind the double glazing, was my mother, clutching a dressing gown to her chin. I don't think she was wishing me good luck.

I think it's safe to say she wasn't a happy camper...


	16. Chapter 16

Naomi

Well...that went _fucking_ well, I thought grimly as I exited the door from the address I had been given by the friendly receptionist at Emily's work place. My face still stinging, on _both_ sides actually. I don't know what I was expecting, just pitching up here hoping to find my on off girlfriend _a_ : in and _b_ ; alone. But I didn't get either.

She wasn't there, but her monstrous mother and sister were, alongside a rather nerdy looking guy with a shock of curly hair, standing behind them in the hallway, wringing his hands. Emily's mother looked just like I'd expected her to. Tall, dark haired and with eyes that seemed to bore into my head like an electric drill. No wonder Emily was terrified of her.

It all went swimmingly...for about half a second that is.

"Er...is Emily in?" I said cheerfully.

"And you are..." the Ice Queen replied. Over her shoulder I could see what looked worryingly like an apprentices attempt to copy a perfect Emily. Same height, same liquid brown eyes, but the sneer on her face and the anger in them was definitely not the same. Even pretty girls look ugly with that expression.

"I'm Nao..." I got as far as, before the first slap connected. It caught me cold and I swayed for a second, not sure that I could stay upright as my ears sang. I remember thinking apropos nothing, if _that_ sort of aggression was in the genes, I'd better not upset Emily Fitch any time soon. That was until the second slap caught me. This time on the other side of my face, from Emily's alter ego. Jesus, these Fitches knew how to follow up a good belt.

"Stay the _FUCK_ away from my sister...you...you... **freak**!" Katie screeched, lunging at me before her mother caught her by the sleeve and stopped her from clocking me again. Tears sprung into my eyes as the pain caught up with me. My own anger flared then, despite my groggy head. I was being attacked, and I never responded well to that sort of physical assault.

"I can see why she needs to get the fuck away from you bitches" I spat and pushed the smaller Fitch really hard in the chest backwards. God (and Emily) forgive me, but even in my fury I registered that Katie had a very fine chest indeed before I stopped going forward. My inner lesbian was swiftly silenced after that.

"Where _is_ she?" I said steadily, more steadily than my thumping heart and surging adrenalin should have allowed. There were two of them, and it looked like they had a head of steam already built up. But I was mad now, and I needed to know where she was.

For a second, I thought Jenna was going to attack me again, but instead she favoured me with an entirely false, icy smile, folding her arms across her chest.

"Actually, my...wayward...daughter has come to her senses, thank God. She spent last two nights here, with her _husband_..." she said coldly "and they are working things out fine without you. You've had your little sordid fling...now its over. Emily is sleeping in their bedroom. JJ and her had a very... _enjoyable_...night...while she made up to him for her little indiscretion. So...if you don't mind, we'd like to get back to normal. Something I'm sure you have no idea about. Don't ever come back here, or I won't be holding Katherine back next time" Her face positively glowed as she watched my expression change from anger to disbelief.

Katie grinned evilly at my shocked face.

"Yeah...judging by the bedsprings last night...she really, _really_ made an effort to apologise to Jay" she hissed spitefully.

I wasn't wearing that, even if it hurt like a bitch. If Emily really was in the flat, I wanted to hear it from her. But Jenna must have read my mind yet again, because she spoke confidently over her shoulder to the the nerdy guy behind her.

"Tell this...'woman' ... _where_ Emily spent the last two nights Jay" she said spitefully. He blinked a bit before nodding and my heart stopped thumping long enough to hit my boots. Even if I didn't believe the evil twins I harboured a slim hope he wouldn't be able to keep up the deceit.

"Yeah...it's true" he said wearily after blinking some more "she spent last night in our bed, with me... _all_ night...and you...you really need to go now...she's home, and she's staying with me. She doesn't want to see you ever again"

I searched his eyes for the lie, but I couldn't find it, which made my heart sink again. He was either telling the truth or he was the worlds best fucking liar. I opened my mouth to argue, to protest. But I couldn't make my mouth form the words my head was screaming at me. She _had_ spent the night with JJ. She might have been kidnapped from work, dragged here under protest by the Ugly Sisters...but no one can make you share a bed with someone you don't want to. I saw the triumph in the two Fitches eyes. JJ had resumed his gormless expression, staring at anything but me. Suddenly, I could feel bile surging up from my stomach. I'm not normally a pukey person, even on bucket-loads of alcohol, but this... _this_ was too much.

I don't suppose Jenna or Katie appreciated the copious jet of mostly undigested Margeaux I projected towards their feet just then. Turning away was the polite thing for me to do, but I just stood there afterwards, vaguely hearing their cries of disgust as red liquid, mixed with copious amounts of dark chocolate splattered their feet. It was a little victory, soon vanquished as I stumbled away from the Fitch door. I only hope it stained their nice cream carpet too I thought, as I wiped my mouth with a baby wipe from my bag and stumbled down the cold stairway to the street.

When I got out of the building, the icy air went some way towards clearing my head. I went into a small corner shop and bought a bottle of chilled mineral water, swigging it by the kerb like a vagrant, before wiping my eyes and walking blindly towards home. My mobile phone buzzed yet again in my pocket. I snatched it out, but as before, it was the same unrecognised number.

"Fucking marketing cunts" I grumbled. This was the second time this morning I had got calls from an unknown number and it was really pissing me off. The only person I wanted to hear from was currently sleeping the sleep of the terminally shagged upstairs. I had no wish or desire to field some lamo salesman's call. I switched it off. Anthea and everyone else would have to wait. Suddenly I had an idea.

Instead of going home, I unlocked my car when I got to the car park and checked my petrol gauge. Over ¾ of a tank. Good. I unlocked my phone, deleting the two new texts and voice mails without opening them and quickly dialled the office.

I spoke to Anthea's PA and told her I needed three days compassionate leave. She sounded shocked (I almost never took time off) and started to ask the obvious questions, which I hedged around without a blush. No time for long winded explanations, I thought. Fuck it. I needed a break from all this shit. Emily was back in the arms of her loving family and I was fucked if I was going to spend another night at my lonely apartment drinking myself sick. My mum was still away, but there was one person I could rely on to listen without judging me. Effy Stonem.

Effy and I had been close friends at college, before I moved up to London to work. Very close at one point, but both of us realised that we were better as mates than shagging partners. Surprisingly, out of all of us, she was the one who stayed in Bristol. Married now. Freddie was a nice guy, bit of a dreamer, but they suited each other. No kids yet, but I know he wanted them. No...seeing Effy again was just what I needed. I fired off a quick text, which with her usual paranormal sensitivity, she answered in about three seconds.

" _Come here right now, you big old lezzer_ " she said.

I smiled genuinely for the first time in about 48 hours. Cheeky cow. I pointed my car at the A13 and pressed down hard on the throttle.

XXX

Emily

Where the fuck IS she? I wondered for the hundredth time since I had escaped my mother and sister (and your husband, my conscience prodded me). Getting away had been the least problematic thing I had done since I got into my car. At first I was going to just drive straight to her place and...well, I hadn't really thought much about the 'and' bit. But I looked at my watch and realised she would probably have gone to work. So I drove over to my friend Linda's house in Chelmsford. I'd known her since I was 16, and although she was married (and divorced) already, she was the sort of person who would know exactly what to do. Several times in the past two years, while I wrestled with my uncomfortable and restrictive marriage, she had been a shoulder to cry on. On the way, I stopped at a Tesco's and bought a pay as you go phone, putting £20 in credit on it. If my mother had my mobile, at least I had the means to get in touch with Naomi once she left work.

Linda did her normal mother hen bit, ushering me into her comfortable 3 bed semi. I must admit, I sort of collapsed on her for a bit. I had held it together all the way over, but the first sign of a genuinely comforting embrace and I just lost it.

Twenty minutes later with a large mug of builders strength tea, and I stuttered out the whole (well most of it) story, Linda sitting opposite me just listening and nodding occasionally.

"Jesus Em...your fucking family?" she said, shaking her head "Crazier and crazier...your mother is about two inches short of being a serial killer, you know that...and your sister...just gets worse, doesn't she?"

I burst out crying again and she handed me a white handkerchief the size of a tea towel so I could blub a bit more. Eventually, eyes red and sore and my nose doing a good impression of Santa's lead reindeer, I wiped my face and carried on.

"I...I think I might...love her" I choked, watching her face for any sort of shock. But there wasn't any.

"Ems..." she said dryly, taking a sip from her own mug "A blind women could tell you were gay...you just wouldn't admit it to yourself, would you?"

I nearly dropped my tea.

"You knew..." I gasped "But...I..."

"You got married because Cruella said it was what was expected of one of her perfect twins. JJ was just the poor sap who happened to be either unaware or uncaring about your true feelings babe. He must have known _something_ was off? I remember your honeymoon. Fucking hell, blushing bride isn't _quite_ it ...you looked as if you had come back from a fortnight in sunny down-town Damascus"

I managed a weak smile at that. It was all too true though. Most brides look forward to their honeymoon as being a time to really let go. No more furtive fumblings in the backs of cars or on borrowed couches. A big comfy bed and two long weeks to really get to know your husband in every way. To me it was sheer torture. There wasn't enough red wine or vodka in the world to make it pleasurable for me. Poor Jay...he must have thought having sex two whole times in two weeks on your honeymoon was just me being ultra shy...

"Yeah but...gay?" I said, blushing.

"So fucking what Ems...it's 2017, not 1830, despite what your mother and sister think it is. Arranged marriages and enforced domestic slavery is a bit 19th century, even for Jenna fucking Fitch" Her eyes flashed as she finally said what she thought about my family. Part of me wanted to argue with her, to say it wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. But I knew it was true. My mother and my sister had ruled and enforced the rules over me since I was born. Being' normal' was doing what Katie had done. Meet lots of boys (although my mother didn't know, or care, that Katie had 'met' quite a few of those 'nice boys' in the passage behind our house, mostly on her knees) find that someone special...get married...produce two perfect matching kids, one of each.

"So this girl..woman, whatever...tell me about her?" Linda grinned. She grinned some more when my eyes lit up.

"Her name is Naomi...she's an executive up in the city, animal welfare abroad or something...blonde hair...the most intense blue eyes...lovely smile... _great_ bod...err...lovely shape..." I stuttered as Linda smirked at the way I was wandering into more...intimate details.

"So... _you're_ smitten Emily...how does she feel about it then?" she asked

My face dropped as I realised that I hadn't spoken to her since I left her at the station yesterday.

"Well...I _think_ she feels the same way. She told me she does and we ...well, you know... the other night..." I blushed again. Even though Linda was a close friend, I'd never been one for disclosing really personal things with her. And this was as personal as it got, wasn't it?

"So, she's smart, successful, beautiful and...great in bed, right?" Linda smirked again "So why aren't you in her bed right now, instead of giving me the benefit of the unvarnished story?" she finished.

"You heard what I said about my mother and Katie...I only just managed to get out in one piece. Naomi is probably at work now...I don't even know the name of the company she works for..and I don't have her number anyway?" I said sadly.

"What...she hasn't given you her number?" Linda said in surprise.

"No...of course she did...but my mother grabbed my phone out of my bag when they took me out of work...her number is on that"

"But you know where she lives?" Linda said

"Yeah...but she won't be back there until tonight..." I whispered "I just needed to talk to someone I could trust before I do anything more to fuck things up. There's something I haven't mentioned. I stayed the night at Jay's. I didn't want to, but it was late and freezing outside and it was just the one night but..." I trailed off miserably..

Linda's face was a picture. Her mouth a perfect 'o'

"You didn't ...oh Christ Em...you didn't _fuck_ him again, did you?"

"No!" I said quickly "I just agreed to stay over...you know in the same bed...so that I could slip away in the morning. If they thought I was agreeing to what they wanted, I figured it would be easier to get out. And it was...but Naomi...she won't understand that will she?"

Linda shook her head. "Em...she's only human. You being press ganged into talking to Jay is one thing...she might be a bit put out if she thinks you let him have one last shag for old times sake?"

"B...but I didn't..we didn't" I gasped "Oh Christ..what if she goes there looking for me?...Katie would fucking _love_ to lie to her about that, wouldn't she?"

My heart was sinking like a stone at the thought of Naomi confronting my crazy family. Lying to her about what had happened last night was something my mother and sister were well capable of. I needed to get back...to find Naomi and tell her nothing... _nothing_ had happened.

But it didn't turn out that way, not at all.

Despite Linda trying to talk me out of it, I was like a wild thing. I grabbed my coat and scarf and hugging her tight in my arms, I thanked her over and over for just listening to me.

"Em...don't go like this" she almost shouted in my ear "Stay here for a bit...maybe we can find out where she works...where she is now. Don't just run out like this...you're still upset...let me drive you at least?"

But I wasn't listening. I jumped into my Mini and slammed the door, waving at her over my shoulder as I sped out of her turning. I needed to get back to Southend. Whether she was home yet or not, I would wait for her. Once I got on the dual carriageway, I remembered the card she had given me the first time we spoke properly. Fumbling above me, I dug it out from the slit in the sun visor. Her number stared back at me as I flicked my eyes from the road and back. I fumbled my new mobile out and thumbed a succession of texts to her. All the way down to the A127, I carried on sending them. Then voice mails, one after the other. Nothing. The phone stayed silent.

Finally, pulling onto the main road into Southend, I tried one last time. Maybe looking down for that long wasn't such a good idea. I'm sure the driver of the delivery lorry I saw for a split second before I ploughed into the side of it didn't think much of my choices.

One second there was a loud horn blasting, then a kaleidoscope of colour, noise and screaming tyres. Then nothing.


	17. Chapter 17

Emily

Lights...bright, white lights. Noise...whispered conversations, rustling clothing, a sharp stabbing pain in my arm...then nothing again.

I cranked open my eyes in stages next time round, who knows how much later. I was floating on a sea of something soft and woolly. Similar to the times I let my sister persuade me to take some illegal substance dredged up by one of her shady 'mates' when we were in college. K?...some sort of fucking horse tranquillizer...wasn't it? Anyway, it wasn't at all unpleasant, just slightly trippy and detached. Above me was the source of the very bright light I had woken to hours...days? Before... before what?

Then a face...one of those shiny, well scrubbed professional faces. Smiling but only with her mouth. Her eyes were as empty as I felt. A nurse then, given the blue scrubs. Still no sensations other than the feeling that I was hovering above myself. I couldn't feel my feet or legs. My fingers on both hands twitched randomly as I laid there, so I knew my arms at least functioned. My mouth opened to say something, but the person above me shook their head.

"Don't try to move...you're pretty knocked about. Can you tell me your name...?"

My name. It was in my head...somewhere... but playing sly tricks with me, hiding behind something opaque or other. I blinked at her slowly and considered her request. My name...?

"Err...Em...?" I said, eventually, my voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere a mile from my mouth "My name is...E..." I trailed off as a spontaneous, thick cough racked my body. Suddenly the soft cushion of whatever drug was coursing through me temporarily lost its grip. _Pain_...fucking enormous, all encompassing pain. I groaned and closed my eyes again. Then the soft, professional voice returned after a pause.

"Don't worry...we can get to that later. I'll just call you Em for now" it said. The face moved away and I winced at both the echoes of the pain which seemed to rebound all over my body and the renewed assault of the lights above my eyes. Another pinprick in my arm, then the safety of comforting darkness washed over me again.

"Em... _Em_...can you hear me?" The same voice spoke in my ear God knows how long later "You really need to try to wake up now sweetie..."

I struggled awake as if I was surfacing from a deep ocean dive. The drug was still cushioning me, but now I could feel more, more sensation. A stabbing pain in my legs, my ribs screaming at me to just stay _still_ , so I did. I twitched my hand again, just checking that I could still move it. I could, so I breathed a careful sigh of relief. I opened my eyes wider and was ridiculously grateful that the harsh overhead light seemed to have been dimmed. I tried to speak, but my mouth seemed to have gummed up entirely. I had a momentary flash of Keanu Reeves with his mouth sewn up by Agent Smith in the Matrix and a giggle bubbled up unbidden inside me. Stupid me...giggling was obviously _off_ the menu for the time being as pain from my ribs seared through my side. I groaned quietly, trying desperately to steady my breathing.

"Shhhh" the voice came again "I'll get you some water for the dry throat"

A straw was pushed between my lips and I sucked on it carefully, conscious that I had no idea which bit of my body would yell in agony next. The water was chilled and as welcome a drink as I had ever had in my short life. After swallowing a mouthful, the straw was taken from my lips and the face appeared again.

"You've been in a nasty accident Em...you have some quite serious leg injuries, which we have operated on successfully... and two of your ribs have been fractured. We were a little worried about you for a day or so...but your sats are all stable now...so hopefully you'll start to feel better soon. Can you talk now...?"

I croaked a muted response. Things were starting to come back to me. The frantic car journey, texting and phoning Naomi over and over...the screech of brakes, a shocking impact and then nothing else till now.

"Na...Naomi?" I said, but the face above me just wrinkled her eyes and shook a no.

"I don't know about a Naomi...but can you give me some details on yourself luvvie? The car you were in caught fire after you collided with the other vehicle. Luckily two people driving by at the time were off duty paramedics. They pulled you out and gave you emergency roadside treatment. Like I said, you were _very_ lucky. The car's completely gutted...along with your belongings, purse and stuff I'm afraid. The only thing salvageable was your mobile phone, which got dragged out with you. You had it in your hand still. But there were no contact numbers stored in it, so I'm afraid you've been a 'Jane Doe' for the past 2 days. Can you give me some details about yourself Em...like your full name...where you live?"

Although my mouth still felt like someone had been using it for sandblasting practice, I found surprisingly, I could.

"My name...my name is Emily... Emily Fitch-Jones" I said hoarsely. I live in Westcliff on Sea?"

I could see her tapping something on a tablet as I spoke.

"Closest relative Emily?" she said brightly "We need to let them know you're here, so they can come straight away. I'm sure your family are very worried about you by now?"

Suddenly, and alarmingly, it all came back to me in a whirl of mental images and emotions. JJ, my mother, Katie... _Naomi_!"

I knew that the very last thing I wanted or needed was my _actual_ family to be summoned here. My mother for one would be in total control of me then. I had no idea yet how badly I was hurt, how long I would be in hospital. But the idea of Jenna Fitch being in total mental and physical charge of me for weeks, maybe months filled me with cold dread. And I had no wish for JJ to be at my bedside either. That was over.

"No close family" I lied, watching her expression change to frank disbelief immediately. "It's... complicated...but there is one person you could call for me. Her number is the last one I dialled on the phone?"

"Ahhh" she said and looked away, which normally meant someone was about to give you bad news "I'm afraid the Police have the phone Emily...they're keeping it as evidence, you understand...the crash?"

I did, and then I thought about the other driver for the first time since I'd come round.

"The other driver...the van...is he OK?" I said nervously. Here was I thinking of myself, I might have killed someone.

"Superficial cuts and bruises, he's been discharged Emily...but I think you might have some questions to answer later sweetie, when you're well enough of course. The Police have been here once, and they'll be back tomorrow to take a statement from you regarding the accident"

I swallowed as she relayed the bad news. Fuck...it was all my fault, wasn't it?. Obsessively phoning and texting Naomi while driving. The accident was _totally_ my fault. I blinked back a fat tear which had sprung into my eye.

"Sorry...so sorry...I'm a total disaster" I whispered hopelessly.

"Well, never mind all that now" the nurse said briskly. "You need to concentrate on getting well again first. You'll probably be here for another week or so...but the consultant surgeon will give you all the details in the morning on his ward rounds"

She went to turn away, but I found I could move my bruised arm enough to tug at her hand as she got up from sitting on the bed.

"W...wait" I said urgently "Naomi...she doesn't know I'm here, she'll be really worried...is there any way you can contact her for me?"

"I told you the Police have your phone Emily" she said gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from my eyes "but I'll tell you what. I know the police constable who's dealing with your case. If you like, I'll give him a ring and tell him the number on the phone is your only contact...maybe he'll give it to me as a favour. Just rest now and we'll talk again in the morning.

She gave me another of those brief professional smiles and left me staring at the plain white hospital ceiling. This time, I let the tears flow unchecked. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse...

XXX

Naomi

"I tell you Eff...his pimply fucking arse was going up and down like a wobbly white piston. The dim blonde underneath him was squealing like first prize in a British Porker competition. I caught him with the iron just as he was about to utter those immortal words..."

She spluttered again and yelled out loud in amusement.

"Grab my balls...grab my _balls_!" she said theatrically, almost spilling her drink as she giggled at my anecdote about catching Cook in the dirty act. Sadly, we had both been on the receiving end of those immortal words in the past. Effy and him had shagged a couple of times in 6th form, but unlike me, she had the sense to put it down to unfortunate experience and settle down with a proper guy. Freddie.

But as we necked our way through a second bottle of Freddies Chablis on the couch, that all seemed an awful long time ago. Not 6th form...catching Cook cheating on me. It all felt so unimportant now. Trouble was, what _was_ important was still on the missing list. Since I'd been here, 2 days hours now, there was no word from Em...her. My phone had stayed silent apart from those annoying marketing calls the other morning.

Effy had been...well, Effy. I'd been directed to the spare bedroom as soon as I arrived and swiftly enveloped in her arms as always. It seemed impossible that this twenty something, sophisticated married woman was the same person as the drug riddled, heroin chic child who wowed the boys (and quite a few of the girls) at Roundview. She straightened herself out after her mum died from alcohol poisoning a few years back. She settled down, married Freddie...the guy who had been in love with her since he first laid eyes on her that morning in assembly. There never was anyone else for him, and once she'd well and truly led him a dance, (shagging quite a few of his competitors on the way...including yours truly) she made her choice and married him. He was in Dubai at the moment at some sort of conference, so once I had had a shower and borrowed some of her underwear, we had the place to ourselves, so we sat and talked most of the night.

Today, I went out and bought a couple of changes of clothing and we decided to raid Freddies wine stash and have a proper girly afternoon...which looked like it was heading for evening too.

"Jesus Naoms...how the fuck you thought _Cook_ was the answer to your prayers, God only knows" she choked "He was a tosser at school, and following you up to Essex didn't change him much, did it?"

"No" I said, grinning at her raised eyebrows..."Mind you...he _was_ a decent shag...when he was actually in MY bed..."

He might have been an A* shag, but his baggage train was bigger than an Arab sheikh's.

She just kept the eyebrows at full mast and swallowed another mouthful of wine. Effy never did use words when an knowing expression was just as effective.

Just then my phone rang. It vibrated busily across the glass top of the coffee table until I could grab it. I snatched it up and groaned at the caller display.

"Fucking unknown number again" I said bitterly "Those fucking ambulance chasers...' _Hello...we can help you with a claim for the accident you never actually had'_ " I mimicked spitefully.

"Here...give it here Naoms" Effy said grimly ..."I fucking _love_ winding these people up" Effy smiled, holding her hand out for the handset. I thought about just cutting the call off, but Effy could be very funny when she was sending someone up, so I shrugged and passed it over to her.

"Hello... _Ms_ Naomi Campbell here, who is calling...?" she said primly and I choked on a mouthful of wine...this should be good.

I waited for a second for the other person to speak, anticipating Effy's performance, but suddenly her face changed from amusement to deadly serious.

"I'm sorry...could you say that again?" she said in a quiet voice. I plonked my wine glass down on the coffee table with a clunk...what the fuck?

"Just a moment" she said in almost a whisper and put her finger over the phone's microphone.

"Its Southend General Hospital. Some nurse on Balmoral Ward?" she said

I shook my head...why the fuck would Southend Hospital be calling me? Effy, pushed the phone at me and I lifted it to my ear.

"Hello" I said

"Naomi?" the voice on the other end said doubtfully..."I thought..."

"Oh..." I said distractedly "Sorry, my friend picked up my phone... _this_ is Naomi Campbell?"

"Right" she said, sounding less than convinced "My name is Sasha Reeves...I'm the staff nurse on Balmoral Ward. We have an Emily Fitch-Jones here...she's been in an accident and..."

I nearly dropped the phone. My fingers cramped on it as I gripped it tightly. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ I thought..."

"Sorry...could you repeat that?" I croaked, my mouth bone dry despite the alcohol.

I heard a small sigh from the other end. Someone was getting tetchy about going over it all again.

"Like I said...I'm a staff nurse on Balmoral Ward. The young lady... _Emily_...was brought in a day or so ago. Road Traffic Accident. Nothing life threatening...don't worry...but she's been bashed about a bit. Her legs mostly. She says you are her next of kin...can you come in to see her?"

My mouth opened and closed without a sound. Next of kin...fucking hell. Emily was hurt...in hospital... and I knew without a doubt that all those calls from an unknown number were from _her_ now. All this fucking time, I had been cutting them off...cutting HER off. My head swam with the guilty knowledge.

"Jesus" I said dumbly "Of course...Oh God...Emily...yes, I mean right...OK. I mean...I'm in Bristol right now...but..."

Effy reached over and took the phone from my fingers, speaking quickly into the handset.

"She's a bit shocked...yeah...they're really close...yes...what time...OK, we'll be there in three hours or so...no that's fine...I'll bring her. Tell Emily...?" she looked up at me for the answer to that.

"Tell her I love her...and I'll be there as soon as I possibly can" I said weakly. (Even if you are a selfish bitch getting pissed while she's hurt, my conscience prodded me)

Effy arched that eyebrow again at my declaration, but thankfully let it pass while she hung up. Considering that's the first time I had EVER uttered the **L** word in her presence, it was testament to her normal composure under stress. I on the the other hand, was a shaking wreck.

"I've got to...got to see her Eff?" I said hoarsely "She's hurt...Oh God. why did I just fuck off like a loser as usual?"

"No time for that Naoms" Effy said firmly. "Both of us are way too pissed to drive. Get your things, I'll ring Freddies sister Karen and get her to drive us up there. Karen was another person from our past who had changed enormously since college. Once the worst sort of over made up wannabe wag, she now held down a steady job at the local vets. I hadn't seen her in years, but Effy kept me up to date with things.

In half an hour, I was in the back of her battered yellow Citroen Saxo, while Effy sat in the front trying to get the ancient satnav to work. Three hours, maybe more. I bit my lip, my fingernails and stewed in self hatred for the entire journey...


	18. Chapter 18

Naomi

I actually fell asleep somewhere along the M25. I woke up just as we were driving along the last stretch of dual carriageway into Southend, my neck ached savagely from where I had ricked it resting against the lumpy seat divider, it was just one more thing to curse myself for. Emily was alone, in hospital, in God knows how much pain, and good old Naoms falls asleep because the wine caught up with her. I coughed wretchedly, making the whispered conversation between Karen and Eff in the front stop instantly.

"Don't stop gossiping about me on _my_ account guys" I said grouchily, running my tongue over lips that felt as dry as leather.

Effy just chuckled darkly. I should have known better. Embarrassing her was just about impossible. She was immune to my bad temper so I quit while I was ahead, contenting myself with a no doubt impressive to watch eye roll

"Great...you're awake Naoms...now we can really go to town on you two" she said slyly. It did nothing to improve my mood, but I straightened myself up carefully, wincing at the stiffness in my neck and shoulder. Citroen Saxo's are not known for their generous rear passenger accommodation.

"Where are we?" I said huskily, rubbing my eyes and peering through the small rear windows at the scenery slipping by.

"Well, if _you_ don't know, we're in trouble" Karen said "You fucking _live_ here Naoms?"

I wiped the sleep from my eyes and tried again. Slowly the view from the back started to become familiar. We were on the A127, just passing a big BMW dealership I recognised.

"Yeah...sorry...bit woozy...turn right at the next set of lights?" I said. The satnav would probably take us around the houses and add a mile to the journey, so now I was awake, I knew a quicker route.

Karen huffed, but turned the satnav off after it nagged us to 'perform a u turn when possible' for the third time. I directed her to follow a local road parallel to the main trunk route and within minutes we were in sight of the hospital.

"Karen...the parking charges are ruinous here. Just drop me outside the main doors and go somewhere to have a cup of tea or something?" I said.

There was a moments silence before Effy turned round with a quizzical look in her sea blue eyes. She paused for a moment for effect before speaking.

"Fuck _that_ Naoms...we've driven hundreds of miles to get you here...and I for one want to _see_ this pocket goddess who has stolen the ice queens heart after all these years self imposed denial?"

"Fuck off Eff" I said lamely "She might not be looking her best at the moment...err...accident?"

Effy smiled and nodded at that.

"Nevertheless, I think I can stand a tenner for hospital parking. We've come this far...?"

This time I nodded...I suppose it was only fair. If Karen hadn't, I would probably have driven up anyway, getting stopped for drink driving on the way.

"OK" I sighed in defeat "But if she's...you know...we don't..."

Again the incline of her head. Effy always understood the conversation _under_ the one you were actually having. It was a Stonem gift. Apparently her older brother Tony had the same powers. I shudder to think how many girls were deprived of their underwear after his equally intense blue eyes and knowing smirk loosened them.

We parked the little Citroen in a free bay. Surprisingly, the car park was mostly empty. I supposed at this time of day, visiting hours were over for the evening. I still grumbled about the six pound coins we cobbled together for 3 hours parking, but eventually we were walking through the atrium towards Balmoral Ward. Southend hospital is the size of a small town, so it took a while to find it. There was a pair of double doors with a security box on the wall next to them. I pressed the button and a disembodied voice answered.

"Balmoral Ward...visiting hours are over I'm afraid"

"Err...hi" I said "You have a patient...Emily Fitch? We've travelled up from Bristol to see her...I'm her... next of kin?" I finished, hoping that was enough to get us inside.

It was.

The door clicked open and I pushed it wide, the rubber edges swishing on the polished floor as we trooped in. The patients were in small side wards, two to a ward, and as I walked towards the nurses station, I peered inside each as we passed, anxious to see her. I caught the flash of amusement on Effy's face as she recognised my agitation, but I let it pass without my usual acid comment. No point, remember?

The nurse who greeted us was small, round, middle aged and Irish. Definitely not the one I had spoken to hours before. I explained who we were, only slightly exaggerating by telling her I was Emily's partner and the others were her first cousins. She didn't believe a word of it, or so her expression told me, but she seemed willing to let it slide, for now at least.

"Emily's in the small room near the end on the left" she said kindly in a soft burr "We thought it best to let her have some privacy..what with the police and stuff?"

I wrinkled my brow in puzzlement. Police? Emily had been in an accident...why the fuck were the cops involved? But like our little Irish nurse, I let that slide too. The important thing was seeing Emily.

We followed the nurse up to the side ward at the end. Unlike the others, this one wasn't open to the corridor. It had a door with a small oblong window at head height. The nurse, whose name I still hadn't managed to read off her name-tag... Whatever it was it started _O'_ , glanced in and then turned to me.

"She's dozing I think...she's still on quite strong painkillers, her legs will be hurting a bit. But she should be OK for visitors, if a bit groggy. One at a time mind...there's a coffee machine down there..." she indicated further down the corridor to our left "so if your ' _cousins_ ' could wait for a bit...?"

I caught the emphasis on the word cousins, but ignored it. We were here, that was all that mattered.

"OK" I smiled at her "can I just go in then...?"

She nodded and waited until I had pushed open the ward door before walking back to the nurses station.

"Give me ten minutes...OK?" I said to Effy and Karen as I held open the door. She nodded and smiled, then they both went in search of much needed caffeine.

Emily was indeed asleep when I got inside. My heart bounced all around my chest like a rubber ball at the sight of a sleeping E Fitch. She looked so... adorable...but so broken too. She was laying on her back in one of those humiliation split gowns they give you if no one has visited to give you proper nightwear. The sheets and blanket were tented over her legs with some sort of frame and I swallowed a sob as I realised her legs would probably be plastered and painful. Her small face was framed on the pillow by that dark mane of lustrous hair. Hair I had stroked and delighted in when she was in my bed only a few nights ago. Now she was hurt, damaged. Another sob threatened to burst up from my chest, but I managed to keep it inside. She looked so angelic, so...innocent lying there. My Emily, I thought...she's _my_ Emily and she needs me. Whatever fucked up game her mother and sister were playing with their happy reconciliation bullshit, I wasn't buying it. The person lying there wasn't one who would actively cheat on me, I just knew it in my bones.

Two strides took me to the bed and I picked up the upright padded chair that was standing by the wall, carefully putting it down so the feet didn't scrape, next to the bed. When I'd sat down, I reached out and gently pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. She didn't wake at first, just wrinkled her brow and murmured something indistinct.

I stroked her cheek and whispered softly.

"Hey you, sleepy head...it's me...Naomi"

Her eyelids fluttered for a second, before opening and once again I was lost in those chocolate pools. It took another couple of seconds before her mind convinced her who she was looking at.

"Na...Naomi?" she said in a weak voice, "Is that really you...?"

I nodded and leaned forward, delicately brushing my lips against hers. It felt like a thousand years since I'd done that. Doing it again was like waking from a deep and troubled sleep.

"It's me baby" I whispered "Everything will be OK now...I'm here"

I had no idea whether everything would _actually_ be OK now. After all, there was still the small matter of her dragon mother and creepy sister...oh, and a husband, not to forget a husband. That's not even mentioning the Police..who apparently wanted to talk to her. But none of that mattered at this moment. What mattered was lying here in hospital, in pain, but happily, recovering by the sounds of it. Emily started to say something, but that first gentle kiss awoke a deep hunger in me for more. So I kissed the question away.

Not passionately...but softly, lovingly. I felt the arm that wasn't hooked up to the vital signs machine reach round, her hand cupping the back of my head. I didn't miss the small moan of pain as she moved, but I figured she must think it was worth the discomfort, and I certainly needed it too...

We broke the kiss after a few seconds and I saw that she had big fat tears in her eyes. I don't think it was from her injuries. Someone was pleased to see me.

"Oh Naomi..." she said brokenly "I've been so stupid...my mother...and JJ and then you were gone and I stupidly crashed the..."

I stopped her with another kiss, this one shorter.

"Nothing matters except you...well to me anyway. How badly are you hurt baby?"

She sighed and let her head fall back on the pillow. Her hand came up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but I beat her to it with a baby wipe from inside my pocket. She smiled gratefully and my heart broke all over again.

"Broken both my legs I think ...and done in a couple of ribs...but it could have been worse, my car's completely burned out, so they tell me. My bag, purse...everything gone. I was so lucky that my phone was in my hand when I...when I hit the other car"

Her eyes got big when she saw I understood what she was saying. She'd been on the phone when she hit the other car. So thats why the Police were interested. Fuck. But I shook my head when she tried to say more.

"Is the other driver OK...?" I said. Please don't let this be causing death by dangerous driving, I pleaded with myself. Selfish I know.

"They say so...just cuts and bruises. But the Police have been and they're coming back tomorrow I think. Oh Naomi...I think they're going to charge me with something"

I saw the tears start again and this time used my finger to gently wipe them away.

"Listen Em" I said firmly, even though I had no idea what charges the Police might bring against her "It's careless driving at worst. Jesus, you could have been killed. You've certainly ended up the worse off of the two people involved. The magistrates will fine you and probably give you some points on your licence. Fuck it...if you lose it for 6 months, I'll have to chauffeur you to work...no problem"

"B...but my mother...Jay...they _will_ find out where I am" she said quickly, her eyes already hunting round the room as if they were going to leap out from behind the redundant heart monitor in the corner.

"Stop worrying" I said "I'm here now. I'll speak to the charge nurse, make sure you only get the visitors you want. I'm here with Effy, my mate and her husbands sister who drove us up from Bristol..."

"Bristol?" she said in a surprised voice "What were you...oh, I see" she ended weakly "My fault, that too?"

I shook my head.

"No Emily... _not_ because of you...well, not directly at least. Effy has always been my go to mate when I'm in the shit. We've known each other since middle school and we've always been close. No...the reason I was in Bristol was a bit more complicated than that... I met your mother by the way..."

Emily actually jumped like someone had wandered over her grave.

"My mother...but how...?"

"Well" I started "Obviously we've got our times lines mixed up a bit. I saw you being corralled by your mother and sister on the train. I guessed they would take you back to J...your husband. I was going to wait till morning and then...well, I don't know really. But I ended up at your work instead...the receptionist is...well, nice...She told me where you lived, but when I got there, you couldn't have been there. The echo of the slap Jenna and Katie gave me on both sides of my face would have woken the dead. You _weren't_ there that morning, were you?"

Emily shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her. I knew that wasn't the whole story.

"No...but I _was_ the night before. I was a fucking coward, as always, faced with my mothers disapproval and Jay just sitting there, like someone had taken his favourite toy away. I stayed that night and snuck out in the morning, before anyone was awake. Then I started looking for you"

"So you...slept with him again...your mother and sister were delighted to give me all the details about your night of passion" I said, trying but failing to hide my bitterness.

"No!" she said sharply, then winced as the pain in her legs and ribs stabbed at her. "I slept there, yes. But nothing... _nothing_...happened Naomi. I'm not a cheater...despite what I've done to my marriage. They persuaded me to stay, and I thought I'd have a better chance of getting away first thing if they thought I'd given in. I have a bit of a track record there...giving in"

I shook my head at the deviousness of her family.

"So all that shit about you and JJ hammering the headboard all night...its a fucking lie then?"

She obviously saw the slight doubt in my eyes because she braved another bout of pain by reaching out and stroking my cheek.

"I promise you _nothing_...not a single thing happened that night. I laid awake for most of it, as far away from him as I could without falling out of the bed, and sneaked out way before it was even light"

I relaxed a bit then. My cold anger towards her conniving parent and sister was still coiling and uncoiling in my stomach, but I knew that could wait. The important thing was that Emily was alive and safe and that she hadn't shagged her husband.

Everything else was just incidental.

"OK" I said, taking a deep breath "I believe you Em. In that case, you just need to concentrate on getting better. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. There is just one thing though..."

I got the worried look again.

"You have to be vetted" I said, suppressing a tiny smirk.

"Vetted...?" she said, puzzled.

"Yep...Effy is outside...she's very curious as to how you have managed to get past the Campbell defences. She says she's waited twenty odd years to see my face light up like it does when your name's mentioned"

I blushed a bit at how much I was revealing here. Emily seemed to inspire it in me.

Emily grinned.

"Fire away then" she said "Wheel her in"

I went to the door. Sure enough, two figures were right outside. Probably close enough to hear some of the conversation I had just been having. I rolled my eyes, but as usual it had zero effect.

Effy walked in in front of me and went straight to Emily's bedside. She held out her hand and Emily gripped it lightly.

"I'm Effy" she said "and this is Karen, my husbands sister. Nice to meet you at last Emily. I'd say that Naomi hasn't told me much about you, but that would be a flat out lie. Actually, you can see the inflatable little pink hearts floating around her head when she talks about you. _Sickeningly_ lovesick..." she grinned evilly at my expression.

Emily gave that infectious little hoarse chuckle of hers and I blushed scarlet again. My ice queen credentials were busted for good now, I though wryly.

"The feelings mutual" Emily said, catching my eyes and holding them in her stare.

"Come on then Karen" Effy said after a few more seconds of watching Emily and me make google eyes at each other "Time to go...any more time here around these two and I really MIGHT be sick. God...love is all around, yeah?"

She turned and spoke in my ear before they left.

"I'll tell the nurse to put a block on the Dragon and apprentice dragon visiting, OK?" she whispered. I nodded quickly.

"Oh...and Naoms?" she said, gripping my arm in her hand as she started to walk out "This ones a keeper...I can tell"

I grinned stupidly at that. Effy had an unfailing ability to spot a fraud. With her endorsement, I had no doubt whatsoever I had made the right choice.

"Night Emily" she breezed, pausing only to throw over her shoulder a comment about finding the nearest Premier Inn, because she was fucked if she was kipping on my floor tonight. My grin expanded another inch.

Half an hour later and with numerous delicious if careful kisses from Emily to savour, I reluctantly allowed the nurse to usher me out while they changed her dressings and gave her another painkilling jab. Then I was back in the room. Whatever they gave her must have been pretty powerful, because she went out like a light. I managed to keep my own eyes open for a few more minutes, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the little half smile that played on her lips . But I must have dropped off with my head resting on the side of the bed soon after.

When I woke up, it was light again. I could hear talking...no shouting from the corridor. I rubbed sleep from my eyes, looking to see Emily was still snoozing in the land of opiates before going to the door. What I heard as I opened it chilled my blood and woke me up completely.

" _Don't_ be ridiculous...that's my daughter in there. I _insist_ on seeing her this _minute_ young lady. Get _out_ of my way..."

The sound of angry clicking heels in the corridor was unmistakeable.

Fuck, I though...Jenna fucking Fitch. Today was likely to be...eventful.


	19. Chapter 19

Emily

 _Sounds_...distant sounds. My mind was foggy, like in one of those old DVD's of London back in the days of thick smog, caped policemen and red buses. The drugs they had given me last night were cushioning my consciousness deliciously. I started to come round from a lovely (no doubt drug induced) dream about a naked Naomi, sitting next to me on a picnic rug in a dappled forest clearing. Wild flowers garlanded prettily around her head, her wrists and those gorgeous, round, full, hard tipped...oh fuck.

The sounds got more distinct. And it wasn't Naomi asking me if I wanted to help her take the flowers off her delectable body one petal at a time (memo to self, stop reading D H Lawrence before going to sleep...Lady Chatterly indeed...) A voice...no _two_ voices. Something inside my mind was setting an alarm call up, but it was almost too much effort to wake up properly. I wanted nothing more than to sink back into the arms of Morpheus (no, not the one from the Matrix) and revisit that magical forest glade. Naomi was waiting there, with her intense blue eyes and a raised eyebrow, waiting for me to...

"I want to see my _daughter_ and you will NOT stop me..." I heard.

Suddenly all thoughts of naked woodland sex and scattered bluebells disappeared in a flash. My _mother_?

I was instantly, crashingly awake. I opened my eyes, squinting against the strong sunlight which was lighting up the already yellow room. I hunted for Naomi...and found her. Standing stiffly upright by my bed, fists clenched and her jaw set, facing the door. Outside I could hear the voices again. My mothers harsh and unbending, the other conciliatory, apologetic. I'd heard that sort of one way argument before, many, many times. It always ended the same way, whether it was my father or one of us twins trying to argue our case with Jenna Fitch. She got her way...always. I sighed deep in my chest and Naomi turned at the sound and looked down at me.

"It's OK Em...I've got this" she said in a serious voice. Now I love Naomi (and a thrill went through me, despite the current circumstances, at being able to just _say_ that) but my mother in full imperious mode is an unstoppable force. I started to shake my head...my mouth didn't seem to want to wake up as quickly as the rest of me.

Naomi reached down and gripped my hand in hers. Unlike mine though, hers wasn't trembling.

"She caught me with a good one last time...this time I'll be expecting it" she said quietly. I loved and hated the icy look in her cerulean eyes. I wanted to believe she could withstand the tsunami called Jenna, but experience had taught me otherwise. I braced myself for disappointment despite my grogginess, for her inevitable defeat.

I was right of course...about 'her' getting in at least. There was a brief and voiceless physical struggle outside, before the soft swish of the rubberised door told me she was here.

She stood in the doorway for a second, dressed in a dark business suit, sweeping the room with cold eyes. First she looked at me, lying in the bed with the blankets tented over my legs. For a split second I saw something which might, in a normal human being, be recognised as compassion, but then she saw the person standing next to me and it disappeared pronto.

" _What_ " she hissed to no one in particular "Is this... _person_...doing here near my daughter?"

I saw Naomi's jaw set and flinched at the one sided battle to come.

Jenna went to say something else, but Naomi spoke over her. Coldly, relentless.

"I'm her partner...as you well know Jenna...and before any more bile flows from that sewer of a mouth...let me enlighten you a bit more. Not only am I staying, because Emily _wants_ me to stay..." Naomi glanced down at me and my mind screamed at her to watch for the inevitable Fitch left hook I knew was coming "...but Emily has left explicit instructions that neither you _or_ your toxic little satellite is to be allowed in here. I'm pretty sure security is on it's way, given your treatment of the nurse outside...so...are we going to have a civilised conversation, or do we just wait for them to arrive and throw you out on your bony, self righteous arse?"

I gaped in astonishment. Bony arse? Ye God's, my mother hasn't been spoken to like that since...well forever really. I saw various emotions cross my mothers face in quick succession and waited for the explosion. I wasn't disappointed. Jenna took one aggressive step towards Naomi, her fist raised and clenched, but to my amazement, Naomi did the very last thing I was expecting. She didn't back off, but stepped _forward_ so that her face was inches from my mothers. They were about the same height, so they were literally eye to eye.

"You caught me cold once Jenna...but that was your last bit of good luck. Use that fist on me and I promise you I'll lay you flat out on the hospital floor...security will have to carry you out feet first" Her mouth was set in a thin, determined line and I saw a flash of real ice in those beautiful eyes. So did my mother. For the first time in living memory, I saw doubt cross her face. No one...and I mean _no_ one, stands up to mama Fitch.

"You...you _creature_ " Jenna spat "...it's _unnatural_ what you've done to her...you freak...you have no _right_..." she actually spluttered. Jenna Fitch pole axed is something I have waited twenty odd years to see. I heaved myself up further onto the pillows, making my legs and ribs sing in anguish, but I just winced and let them ache. This was a show I would pay double to see.

"I have _every_ right Jenna. It's 2017, not the fucking nineteenth century. Slavery has been abolished, forced marriages are against the law. Being _gay_..." Naomi paused for effect "...is not only legal...but pretty common. Emily is a grown woman. The days of you and her sister brow beating her into something she isn't are over...get it? She's with me now...and I intend to make sure your lovely daughter is as happy she can be. Now...are you going to be civilised about this...or are you gonna use that fist...?"

My mother gasped at that. She shot me a look which started off intimidating but ended up as almost pleading.

"Emily...you can't...your _husband_ , the neighbours...people will...?" she said weakly.

"Talk...?" I said, finding my voice at last, even if it did sound a bit reedy to me "I'm sure they will mother. But Naomi is right. My marriage was a sham...always was. You have one perfect daughter, why not be content with that? Just let me live my life the way I want? I love Naomi as much as she loves me...and I want to be with her"

"Love...?" Jenna choked "You have no idea what that is young lady. _JJ_ loves you... _we_ love you..."

"Yeah...you both love me so much you want me to live out my life a lie. Miserable, unfulfilled, empty" I found my strength was being fuelled by the admiring and loving look Naomi was sending my way as I lay there. Her courage was infectious. "You can either accept what I am... **gay**...or you can go on lying to yourself and my...ex...husband. Either way, it's over now"

Suddenly I was exhausted. The frigid atmosphere in the small room seemed to have sapped the tiny amount of strength I had in me. I sagged back on the pillows.

"I'd like you to go now, mother" I ended wearily.

"I have no _intention_ of..." my mother started, but unbelievably, Naomi was gripping her arm so tightly, I could see the pain on Jenna's face. Jesus Christ, my 15 stone _dad_ is scared of my mother. Naomi was pushing her...fucking _pushing_ her, towards the door.

"Out you go Jenna...lovely to have met you again...sorry it had to be so short..." Naomi said grimly, still pushing. Just for a second I saw my mother for what she really was. A scared, repressed, angry woman who had got used to people backing off when she went off on one. But my lovely, beautiful, protective...scary...girlfriend had called her bluff. I didn't think it was possible to love someone more than I already did, but those pink inflatable hearts weren't only floating round her head these days.

A couple of seconds later, we were alone again. I still felt exhausted, nervous, but I could hear more than one voice now outside. It seemed like the cavalry had arrived at last, if a bit late. My mothers voice echoed indignantly down the corridor as she was escorted from the ward.

Naomi slumped onto my bed beside me, her face paler than the hospital sheets. Suddenly she looked as scared as I had been.

"Jesus babe...that was soooo impressive" I giggled, then wished I hadn't as my ribs sent bolts of pure agony up my body.

Her face changed to concern when she saw how I was struggling, but there was a little smile playing on those pretty lips.

"To be honest Em...I was half a second away from bricking it on the floor. If she had taken a swing at me, I might not have ended up quite the hard case I pretended to be. The last fight I was in was in Junior school. Just about the only useful thing Cook taught me was to be assertive when someone is threatening you. But unlike him, I don't have the physical ammunition to back it up. One scary fucker, your mother" Naomi grinned ruefully and I fell in love with her a bit more.

"No matter" I said, settling for a weak smile instead of a giggle this time "My big brave girlfriend stood up for me and...well, just at the moment, I can't show you how fucking hot that made me babe...but when these casts come off...I'm gonna show you _just_ how much I appreciated that"

Her eyes got wide and she licked her lips. A sign I recognised even from one solitary 24 hour period in her bed. My stomach flooded with heat and I cursed my battered body for not allowing me to show her exactly how much I wanted her.

"I'll take a rain check for that little Fitch" she said cheekily "But keep talking like that and I might have to resort to self help if you're an invalid much longer"

More pooled heat as my mind instantly pictured a naked Naomi touching herself. This time I licked _my_ lips and she chuckled evilly.

"I'd say you'd like to watch that...wouldn't you, sexy" she said softly "It _can_ be arranged…."

"More than I could possibly say" I said honestly "Why the fuck did I have to get myself all broken up like this Naoms?"

She reached over and very carefully pulled me to her. A chaste kiss on the mouth was all I got, but it meant much more and both of us knew it. The dragon was banished, if just for now, and we basked in the pleasant afterglow of battle.

XXX

Naomi

Its been 2 weeks since Ems was discharged now. Emily's home (well at my place, which is home in my book) Her legs are in smaller, thinner dressings now. The physio visits three times a week and I have to listen to my darling Emily crying in pain and frustration afterwards. I know it hurts like mad, but she is such a determined little thing. Her ribs are almost healed however and it no longer hurts her to breathe, but she has to keep flexing her thigh muscles and stuff, to stop the them atrophying. Luckily the breaks were clean, both below the knee, so with the help of crutches, she can get about in the apartment. She's going stir crazy, of course. The first week, I was at home with her all the time. I did most things for her, cook, wash and dress. She drew the line at me helping her onto the toilet, at least after the first couple of times, but I did have to lift her on to the seat at the beginning. Her adorable blushing at me helping her off with her knickers made me giggle though.

"Ems babe...I've seen ALL your bits...remember?" I scolded her amiably "More than once actually...and they're as pretty as a picture"

"Yeah, but seeing them when you're about to...well, you know...is different to _this_...its really embarrassing" she said primly, which made me giggle even more.

So I let her struggle with her more private functions after that, but insisted on helping her to the bathroom door at least.

But now she manages fine, scuttling along on those hospital crutches like a demented miniature pirate. She is just about the most adorable creature I have ever seen, let alone been with and none of it is a hardship, not one second of it.

I _have_ gone back to work now, mainly because Anthea was having kittens at being without her 'right hand girl' as she put it. But I leave at 7am instead of 6 and get the early train back, so I'm home by 6.30. I never knew I could be so happy just coming in through my front door, to see my beautiful girlfriend standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a saucepan, her face flushed with pleasure at my arrival.

Domestic bliss? Yep, that's the ticket.

Except for one thing...one very important thing.

We haven't...you know, done the dirty deed...not once since she's been back. Now let me say that's not for lack of desire on either part. I see her eyes darken when I'm getting dressed beside the bed in the morning. And when I come out of the shower before joining her on the couch, she licks her lips just like I do when I'm horny, ,

So we watch East Enders together (coz she loves it) and although I hate morbid, badly acted soaps in general and wooden mockney crap in particular, I suffer it . But watching her cute face as she anxiously follows the yawningly predictable plot is better than any TV program. She watches them and I watch her. It just works.

But I can't seem to bring myself to touch her like... that... at the moment. I've seen the pain on her face when she forgets herself and reaches for something or jars her legs. It's obvious she's in more pain than she lets on. The drugs she was on have been reduced and now its just two tablets in the morning and two more before we go to bed. And after physio, the therapist gives her a nice little blue pill as well, which seems to work. She might cry a bit at first, but soon she's woozy and I have to slip her into bed so she can have a proper nap.

So I've been a very noble Naomi and let her heal. And it's fucking _killing_ me.

Several times I've woken up with her spooning me from behind, one hand cupping my breast possessively in her sleep. I feel her squeezing gently and murmuring something indistinct in her sleep. Something of course which is now impossible for yours truly after she's woken my libido up. I sigh quietly, and as gently as possible, pull her hand off me. My nipples throb in disappointment and I usually slip out of bed and make myself a pacifying coffee or three. As long as I'm back in bed before she wakes in the morning, she's fine with that. But I am getting very grouchy these days. Not at home...she doesn't need me taking out my frustration on her, but at work it's a different story. I'm sure I am known by several unpleasant names by now. Spending the night in bed with a beautiful, desirable, but unavailable girl is fucking slaughtering me. Even when I was with Cook, I had a higher than average sexual drive. Shagging him was generally satisfying if sporadic, but a bit hit and miss for me. I resorted regularly to what I teased Emily about...'self help'...most days or evenings, when he wasn't around to scratch my itch. But it seems very unfair now to sneak into the bathroom to rub one out, while my invalid girlfriend is in da house, as it were.

This week, on Monday afternoon after a rather lurid daydream, I found myself in the executive wash-room at work, sitting with my underwear round my ankles on the loo, actually considering doing something I hadn't done since I was about 15. I only _didn't_ because a couple of women from accounts walked in chattering, just as I was weakening. I hastily redressed and washed my hands in the sink outside the cubicle, blushing furiously at my reflection at what I had just been actively considering doing.

So tonight...after a long and not so satisfying shower (run colder than usual to cool my...urges) I found myself on the couch again. Emily had cooked a delicious pasta dish and we were sharing a glass of wine afterwards. Her pills meant she was virtually teetotal at the moment, but she allowed herself a couple of sips while I polished off the rest. She snuggled right up to me and I stiffened as her fingers played with the belt of my dressing gown, getting dangerously close to loosening it.

"Naomi...?" she said slowly as the _dum dum dum_ of EastEnders started it's dreary exit tune.

"Yes beautiful" I said softly.

"Don't you... miss...you know... _it_?" she whispered and the heat in my stomach flared lower...much lower.

"Of course I do Em" I said tightly (Jesus, if she knew how _much_...) "But when you're feeling better we'll..., huh?...I know it hurts you when you move about too much...lets not worry about it yet. You're here and you're healing...I can wait a while longer"

"But...what if I don't _want_ you to?" she said artfully. I turned to look at her.

"Em..." I said "We _can't_...not yet..." I hated how whiny that sounded but she had lit a fire in my belly and I was burning up with it now.

She reached up and traced her finger delicately round my ear. Something she damned well knew turned me on more than anything. I groaned in protest and took her hand away, gently putting it back on her lap.

" _Em_...?" I said again "Don't tease...you have no idea what that's doing to me..."

She pulled my face right round till I was facing her and leaned forward, kissing my lips softly.

"Oh I do Naoms...I know _just_ how much you must be aching now, because I am too. I know I can't do... it... with you properly right now...although I want it just as much as you. But we _could_...?"

"Could what?" I sighed in frustration, kissing her back.

" _Self help_...remember?" she whispered in my ear, wiggling her fingers in front of my face suggestively and I swear the heat between my legs scorched the couch beneath me.

"Fuck Em...you mean...you want me to...?" I said, knowing exactly what she was suggesting, but needing nevertheless to hear it from her.

" _Yessss_ " she breathed "No point in both of us being frustrated, is there...anyway, I've never seen you do...that...and I really want to see...?"

"God Ems" I said shakily "You're fucking killing me here...you mean you want to watch me get myself off...make myself...?"

"...come?...Yes Naomi, that's exactly what I want to see. I bet you look so sexy..."

My blood was roaring in my ears as I got up from the couch, carefully pulling her upright until she could grab on to me.

"You certainly know how to make a request, little Fitch" I said shakily, my legs actually trembling with anticipation. I hadn't done that for someone for fucking years, but suddenly the idea of _her_ watching me made it a million times hotter.

She smiled up at me as I led her into the bedroom.

"I've got years of repression to make up for babe" she said hoarsely "You have no _idea_ how many things I want to try with you, Naoms..."

Oh Jesus I thought as we stumbled into the bedroom. Maybe I don't, but I have the feeling I was going to fucking _love_ finding out...


	20. Chapter 20

Emily

Watching Naomi drop that thick white towelling dressing gown onto the bedroom floor made my mouth instantly dry and my stomach tighten in anticipation. It's not that I haven't _seen_ her naked before. For two weeks now I have been curling up, as best I can, with a smooth and fragrant, freshly showered Campbell nude body. At first, I ached and throbbed in pain so much, despite the medication, that it was all a bit academic. But since my ribs stopped shooting bolts of agony through me and the legs have settled for a dull background ache, I've been noticing.

I've been noticing a lot.

I lied to her just now too. About us both being equally frustrated.

 _She_ might be throbbing with suppressed need to get off, after weeks of abstinence. But I've been a naughty invalid Emily. All those hours when she's at work...I've been...err...relieving myself...on and off. I mean, what's a girl to do? All those empty hours, watching the clock, waiting for her to get home. All those YEARS, suffering a loveless, sterile marriage, sneaking the odd bit of self help when JJ was in the shower. Had to explode sometime, didn't it? So I've been...easing the tension a bit. _Quite_ a bit actually. Carefully of course...Watching her undress at night, and dress in the morning in matching black underwear has been sheer torture. Exquisite torture, but still...it gave me plenty of ammunition for my daytime fantasies.

She's been so lovely about it all too...the no sex thing, _too_ lovely really. Never pressing, never sulking because we can't touch each other. I know she's been suffering too, because she's been having some...err... _dreams_...occasionally at night. Dreams that make her moan and wriggle. We can't make love properly, my legs hurt too much still for any mutual bedroom gymnastics. So I sometimes hear her mutter something indistinct in the dead of night and then, when she wakes up, carefully pulls my hand off her breast, where it seems magnetically attracted and gets up. Sometimes at three in the morning. It can't be doing her any good, all that frustration? I hear the coffee machine bubbling in the kitchen and know she's substituting caffeine for satisfying sex. That's just not healthy, now is it?

And it might have gone on for another few weeks, maybe even until my casts come off. And I can't be responsible for _that_. She matters way too much to me. So I gathered my courage and came right out with it, as we were sitting side by side on the couch tonight. I've never seen Naomi masturbate. Never seen _anyone_ masturbate come to think of it. My mother used to say we would have to wear prescription glasses if either of us twins committed what she referred to as 'dreadful self abuse'. Well, in that case, Katie should have a nice seeing eye Labrador to guide her round the town and I should be wearing two inch thick glasses by now. I never actually _saw_ my twin doing it (thank God and Holy Mary) but we _are_ more alike than even my mother knows. So we used to give each other silent signals that one or the other of us needed some 'private' time. And boy did we need a lot of privacy in those days. Before Katie discovered erections that is.

But the thought of actually being there when _Naomi_ did...it...was making my legs shake. She'd agreed way too quickly for someone who was the least bit unsure, so I knew I had made the right decision.

But watching her throw the robe to the floor and lay that sexy body down on the bed was making my heart thump like I had run a marathon. Jesus, she was stunning. Long limbs, smooth and pale, with breasts that rose and fell deliciously as she breathed hard, watching me, watching her. Her eyes burning into mine. I clumsily manoeuvred to the side of the bed and lowered myself down beside her. Our bodies touched for the first time, even though I was still wearing my night time tee. The crutches made a small clanking sound as they collapsed to the floor, but neither of us cared about anything else now. She was going to do _it_...with me watching...and I could hardly breathe with excitement. At least one of my own adolescent fantasies was being acted out in front of my eyes. Holy shit.

"How...how do you want this Em?" she said in a small nervous voice. God, how do you answer a question like that?

"However you usually do it" I breathed "You look so beautiful...I don't care...just do what you like...when you...you know?"

Her eyes widened again and she rested her head back on the pillows.

"I usually have my eyes closed, fantasising about, well, just stuff...you know...but this time I think I need to...look at you properly Em. You _are_ my fantasy lover babe...so it will be like it always is..."

My breath caught in my throat. Of course...she thinks of me. Just like I think of _her_ when I do it.

I pulled myself a bit closer, trying desperately not to wince in pain as my legs protested. No way was I putting her off now by showing my discomfort. I clumsily tugged my tee over my head so at last my bare skin touched hers properly. She was warm..almost hot to touch and I trembled again at what we were about to do...well, what she was about to do.

She laid back and her hands went up to her breasts. I didn't think it was possible for my mouth to get any drier, but it did. I could feel my tongue repeatedly flicking over my lips, but I didn't care what I looked like, only her now. Her breathing slowly deepened as those hands kneaded and stroked her wonderful, full tits. Her thumbs rubbing her already stiff nipples. Now her mouth opened and she let out the first small moan. The heat between my own legs surged and I tensed as she started to slowly slip one hand down her flat stomach until it reached the neatly trimmed triangle of light brown hair. Now _I_ moaned, deep in my throat, as our eyes devoured each other. I was determined not to touch myself until she had got off, so I squeezed my thighs together, feeling the pulse between them increase.

"Fuck Emily...you're so...oh fuck" she groaned as her fingers started to slip through the fine hair. I bit my lip as her thighs parted to let them explore.

Slowly...so slowly, she cupped and stroked herself there, all the time staring at my face and biting her own lip. I have never seen anything so sexy in my life. All those fanny books and internet clips paled into insignificance at the sight of Naomi Campbell...my girlfriend...touching herself for me.

"So excited...so fucking wet Ems" she hissed as her fingers at last found her opening. Her thighs jerked as her middle finger slipped easily inside and then out again, moisture glistening on its tip. She started to make small circles around her pink clit and my breathing began to match hers. Now her thighs were opening wide, one leg touching me as she stroked herself faster. Her eyes rolled up in her head as she built the rhythm steadily. It was the single most erotic thing I had ever watched and I was almost in awe at how beautiful it was.

"Emily...Oh God Emily" she said huskily, her breathing now ragged and uneven.

"Oh fuck Em...so good...so fucking **good** "

For a minute or so, all you could hear was her breathing and the slick sounds of her fingers,

Then her chest flushed and her toes started to curl as she got closer. It had only been a few minutes since she started but I knew all that pent up frustration was about to be blown away. Suddenly I couldn't just watch. Even if my legs ached for the rest of the night, I had to... _touch_.

I leaned over her, my nipples pressing against her side and her eyes flew open as she felt my body on hers. Her mouth was open in a silent scream now and her eyes wide and unseeing as I felt her arm moving faster and faster between us. The small, liquid sounds of her excitement was matched by her almost desperate breathing.

"Uh...uh...uh..." she panted after a few more seconds "I'm gonna...gonna... **Oh!** **Oh**! _Emily_!" she cried as my mouth closed hungrily over a stiff and excited nipple. Her other hand flew up and pressed my mouth onto her even harder as I saw her hips rise up off the bed, her body arching and thrashing beside me. Again and again she bucked upwards, moaning continuously and gripping the back of my head painfully. My legs competed with my ribs to see which could produce the most agony, but I could care fucking less. My baby was _coming_...and I was with her. It might have been the second best thing to making her do it myself, but I loved it anyway.

I felt really humble as I lay with her afterwards, while her breathing slowed and her body cooled. She'd let me witness something private, something very special. I closed my eyes and rested my head on her side, recalling all the lovely moments I'd just watched. Her skin... how the small muscles underneath rolled and trembled. Her eyes...how they grew blacker as her excitement increased. Her lips...those soft, expressive lips, parted as she gasped out her climax. Her fingers...how they had worked so expertly to get to her orgasm. I had personal experience of those talented fingers and it made me shiver with the vivid memory of them on me... _in_ me. Her voice...at first controlled, then louder, hoarser, helpless as she surrendered to her body. All of it was an experience I knew I would remember for the rest of my life. Not just a woman allowing her lover to share a most private and intense moment, but for Naomi, I knew, it was a kind of surrender too. Someone proud and reticent about letting anyone in had just let me watch her at her most helpless and...I don't know...vulnerable?

I kissed her soft lips and whispered in her ear "Thank you", brushing sweat damp hair out of her eyes. She grinned at me then.

"Well...was it as...interesting... as you thought it would be?" she said cheekily.

"Everything I dreamed of and more" I said honestly "That was so beautiful...so erotic...so..."

"Shut up" she giggled and nudged me in the arm, still careful to avoid my ribs.

"You'll want it every night otherwise..."

"And twice on Sundays?" I chuckled, only half kidding.

We slept then. There was still a pleasant throb between my legs, unfulfilled, but I could wait now. Tomorrow my ribs and legs would be another day better. Maybe I could get her to demonstrate her technique somewhere _I_ could enjoy too, I thought as I slipped into unconsciousness.

Morning brought the daylight, and a far less pleasant experience however.

The doorbell rang just after 7. I was busy pouring coffee and buttering toast for Naomi before she went to work. I thought it was probably just the postman, so hobbled to the door to answer it while Naomi finished getting dressed.

When I opened the door, two uniformed policewomen were standing there.

"Uh...Oh" I coughed "Right..."

Although I had been interviewed in hospital about the crash, and was warned about possible driving charges, nothing had happened for the past two weeks. Apart from talking to the insurance company about the written off car, I hadn't really thought about it too much. I sighed...I suppose it had to happen sooner or later.

"Uh...I'm Emily Fitch...I suppose it's about the accident?" I said.

The older of the two women police officers frowned and looked down at her notebook, which she had in her hand.

"No...actually we're looking for a...Naomi _Campbell?_...this is her address, yes?"

"N..Naomi?" I said stupidly "But what...why would you...?"

Just then Naomi came to the door, zipping up her black business skirt.

"What's up Ems...Oh...hello...is this about the crash...bit early, isn't it...officer?"

The older plod shook her head and stepped uninvited into the hallway. She looked straight at my girlfriend.

"Naomi Campbell?...I'm arresting you on suspicion of theft" she said

" _What_?" Naomi and I said in unison.

"What the fuck... _theft_...who from... when...?" she spluttered as I stared dumbly at the policewomen, neither of whom changed their stolid expression.

"You don't have to say anything, but..." the other one continued as I watched the older copper take out a pair of handcuffs.

"Just wait...don't I even get the chance to ask what the fuck I've supposed to have stolen?" Naomi said urgently as the burly uniform snapped them on to her wrists..

"You'll get the chance, when we get down to the station. You'll be interviewed officially then. But now...I have to search your apartment...unless you tell me where the stolen item is... It will save time if you cooperate?"

"Stolen item...cooperate?" I said looking from them to Naomi. " _WHAT_ ITEM?"

The younger policewoman started reading from _her_ notebook now.

"A Mr Jeremiah Jones has reported a valuable watch was taken from his home when you..." she indicated Naomi "...visited earlier this week to collect Ms Fitches belongings. He states it was definitely there in the marital bedroom, before you arrived, but it's gone now"

Suddenly it all became chillingly clearer. Naomi had phoned JJ and asked if she could come to pick up some things for me. Apparently when she got there, my mother and Katie were there. Naomi expected a row, but my mother had been unexpectedly cooperative. Now we knew why.

"Fucking bitch..." I spat at the policemen "She's set us up...set Naomi up...we wouldn't...she wouldn't..."

The other copper had gone into the bedroom...our bedroom, but even as we were absorbing the news of the theft and Naomi was being read the rest of her rights, she came back in holding something in her hand. Something shiny and oh so familiar. JJ's watch. An expensive Hamilton, I'd bought him it for Christmas last year. £500, it cost me. I stared at it in shock.

"Where did you...what the actual _fuck_ is going on?" Naomi said quietly..."I have no idea how that got here...this is..."

"Yeah, well, it looks pretty conclusive to me" the younger plod said smugly "Let's go...you can explain it all at the station".

I couldn't even go with her. I couldn't drive and they wouldn't let me come. Naomi just looked at me with shocked eyes as she was led away. My ribs ached and my legs screamed at me for relief as I stood in the window, watching them push her into the waiting marked car in the car park.

What the fuck do I do now, I thought?


	21. Chapter 21

Naomi

Bloody ridiculous, I thought for the twentieth time since I got to this drab cinder block pile called a police station. Being 'processed' by the custody sergeant was bad enough.

"Do you know why you're here?" - Err...yeah?

"Do you want to make a telephone call?" - Nope, the only person who mattered knew exactly where I was.

"You've been arrested on suspicion of theft" (The copper who handcuffed me, held up exhibit fucking A in a plastic wallet or whatever they called it and they all looked at each other and me, like we were all in this together.

"You'll now be searched and then placed in a cell until the officers are ready to interview you regarding this allegation"

Don't they get everything ready before they haul you out of your home at 7am, I thought miserably.

But I didn't answer any of the questions, just nodded and glared a bit. The police must take lessons from Effy Stonem, because they never showed any emotion to my stonewalling.

So...I was put in a grimy grey box with a window so far up the wall, all you could see was the sky and a steel door with a hatch in it and no fucking handle on the inside.

I sat there for over an hour, biting my nails and cursing the very existence of Jenna Fitch and her obedient sidekicks. How could I have been so stupid? Of course...not being able to brow beat Emily into returning to the bosom of her family, the next easy target was me. I should have known when Jenna was so polite and accommodating that she had a plan. That last minute suggestion that I take Emily's other winter coat from the bedroom? I had two suitcases ready to go, but JJ showed me into 'their' bedroom before offering me the dark wool coat on a hanger. No doubt one of them had stuffed the fucking watch in the inside pocket, carefully buttoning it up so it wouldn't fall out when I took it from him.

I never even considered searching the pockets. Why would I? When I got back, I just put it, hanger and all, in my...our... wardrobe. Emily had hardly left the flat since I got her home , so she hadn't needed her spare coat. Fool that I am, it was just hanging up there...ready for the police to find, in the place I'm sure Jenna made sure they were advised to look.

I'm stuffed, I thought miserably. No one will believe me, except Emily.

Fuck, _Emily_ , I thought immediately. I was so wound up and worried about me...I'd almost forgotten my girlfriend, holed up in Chez Campbell, without any idea where I was being held, or how long I'd be here. I jumped up from the thin, plastic covered mattress on the concrete block 'bed' and rang the bell next to the door. There was no point ringing her, but there was one other person I could trust. Effy.

The fat and grumpy custody officer took ages to answer the bell. Just as well I wasn't hanging by my neck from a belt, I thought savagely, before remembering they'd taken my belt and left it outside the cell door, along with my shoes. What the fuck I was supposed to do with a pair of shoes in this 2 metre box, I had no idea, but they obviously posed a security risk. Fuckers.

When she did finally heave into view, puffing like she'd run from the other end of the pier instead of the ten metres from the other end of the cell lined corridor, the hatch opened with a clang.

"Yes?" she said, the crumbs from her breakfast clearly visible on her dark shirt.

"I want to make that phone call now" I said briskly.

"Not convenient" she answered, making to turn away. No doubt a half eaten bacon roll was sitting on her desk.

"It's my right...and I _want_ that call" I said firmly.

Her eyes blazed at the cheek of me actually stating my rights, but eventually the little piggy eyes dropped and she huffed as she jangled her bunch of keys and opened my door.

"Follow me" she barked and waddled off back the way she had come. I thought about putting my shoes on, but decide against it. The phone call was the important thing. There was a wall mounted phone at the very end of the corridor and she insisted on dialling the number for me, as if I was an educationally challenged 8 year old. Luckily, Effy's mobile number hasn't changed for years, so I remembered it.

Unluckily for me, she wasn't answering. Damn, I thought...probably on her way to work. Effy never did like hands free kits so the mobile was probably buzzing away on the seat beside her as she negotiated the Bristol early morning traffic. I left a brisk message, telling her where I was and what the address of the police station was. I asked the fat plod what the name of the copper who'd arrested me was and she told me. I barely managed to keep a straight face as I relayed it to voice mail. Fucking hell... Sergeant ' _Major_ '?...who works in the police force with a second name of Major?

Then I was back in the cell for another 30 minutes before I heard footsteps in the corridor outside again. No doubt Sgt Major and her sidekick were digesting another of those police canteen bacon sandwiches before bothering with me. My stomach grumbled in sympathy. I'd got used even in two short weeks, to Emily's breakfasts. No more rushed instant coffee and a crisp bread before running for the train. No...my little Fitch insisted on quality filter coffee, buttered toast and at weekends, the full works. Bacon, mushrooms, tomato's, hash browns. The lot. Jesus, my stomach growled again as I remembered the last delicious breakfast we'd shared.

But then the door was screeching open and Major Major (stop that, I thought...this isn' H) came in with her junior oppo.

"Ready for your interview?" she said without looking at me.

"A fucking hour and a half ago, actually" I said sourly, which gained me nothing but an indifferent glance back. I followed her back down the corridor, this time pausing to collect my shoes and belt.

A minute later we were in what I suppose they call an interview room. Drab and green/grey like the cell, it had three chairs, a table with a grey cube shaped recording machine on it and a microphone both sides. Above me, facing down, I could see the lens of a CCTV camera, a red light winking under it. Around the wall was a strip of red plastic inside a black rubber border. _Alarm_ , it said at strategic points round the walls above it. Right, so if I try physical assault, that's when the storm-troopers make an entrance, I thought bitterly. As if.

The interview itself lasted less than ten minutes. After the initial bullshit about announcing themselves individually for the tape, and reading me my rights again, then telling me I was entitled to a solicitor, they got to the meat.

"Tell us your side of the story Naomi" the younger woman said pleasantly (no doubt auditioning for the good cop role).

"Simple" I said "Emily had left her husband JJ and was living with me" I glared at them both before continuing, just in case of the usual establishment homophobic response to an admission that two women were 'cohabiting', but their faces remained blank.

"She...Emily that is, asked me...as she's still injured from the accident, if I could go to her old place and collect a few personal things from her ex. I did. Her mother and sister, who hate me and the ground I walk on by the way, were there and gave me a couple of already packed suitcases and then her ex husband told me I should take her winter coat too, which was in the bedroom. I followed him in there..."

"So you were alone with Mr...ah.. Jones in the bedroom?" The older copper said, looking at the other one as if that had hidden meaning.

"Yeah...I bent over and offered him a quickie, just so he wouldn't feel completely left out, but he refused, funnily enough" I said acidly.

"Being crude won't help your case" Major Major said and made a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

I glared at her.

"Yeah...like you're actually _interested_ in the facts...you've already made your mind up anyway. Wronged ex loses watch..which turns up, mysteriously in my flat...open and shut case huh? Let me guess, the complaint was made by Mrs Jenna Fitch?" I growled. This bullshit was giving me a headache. As far as the cops were concerned this is a slam dunk. Stolen watch, me and a cuckolded husband. I bet they were hoping I'd 'cough' or whatever slang the police use nowadays and then they could get back to duty, sitting in a squad car, eating greasy Maccy Dee's.

Major Major shook her head.

"No...actually Mr _Jones_ made the complaint. Mrs Fitch was present, but took no part in the statement process" she said primly.

"Right" I said flatly "Just wrote the script...wrote the theme tune, sang the theme tune..."

Neither of the policewomen appreciated my attempt at humour.

"So..." the younger one piped up again "You deny the charge of theft. Is there anything else you'd like to add before we terminate the interview?"

I shook my head. No point, was there?

After that they ended the taping, escorted me back to my lovely cell and another hour went by. Eventually the fat lady sang (or growled) and escorted me out to the charge room. I stood by a tall desk while a different sergeant in a white shirt droned on about me being granted police bail until the CPS had decided on whether they formally charged me. Another minute later I was outside, blinking in the strong winter sunshine, looking back at the grey block of Southend Central Police station. I was free...for now at least.

It was a ten minute walk back to my place from there and I had to hug myself against the biting cold, but at least I was out. I thumbed a quick text to work, telling them I had a temperature and wouldn't be in today, then one to Effy, saying I was out. By that time I was at the entrance to my apartment block. Shivering a bit, I pushed open the glass lobby doors after entering my security code and took the lift to my floor.

I hadn't had time to grab my keys before being hauled off this morning, so I had to ring the bell. I heard shuffling footsteps and then the door was flung open.

"Hi" I said brightly...then the smile was wiped off my face instantly. Behind a sad looking Emily was the last person I thought I would ever see in my home.

JJ fucking Jones.

XXX

Emily

I knew as soon as I saw Naomi's face as the door opened that I'd fucked up...big time. I thought it would help...ringing Jay and asking him to come over to talk about what ever my mother and Katie had cooked up to incriminate Naomi. Whatever our differences, I had always been able to _talk_ to him. OK, except when he was a lot younger and he got that locked on thing going when things got too much for him, he was the most level headed person I knew. He _never_ went off the deep end. The meds he was on made him just about the most laid back person on earth. I knew it would still be raw for him...me leaving...especially for another woman, and I knew full well that my mother and Kay would have been dripping poison in his ear from the moment I left. But Jay would never resort to something like that...fitting someone up with a crime they hadn't done. No...that was my mothers idea of revenge.

I needed to know that he wasn't involved and that Jenna had blind sided him too with the watch thing. He almost never wore it anyway. He preferred his old Timex from school. Simple dial, simple wind up. But he used to wear it when we went out somewhere formal, or to one of the interminable Fitch family dinners. He probably wouldn't have even noticed it had gone if it hadn't been pointed out to him.

So I called him as soon as Naomi had been taken away and he came straight over.

What he told me, however, shocked me to the core.

"I hate to say this Em" he said, eyes locked on his shoes "But Naomi _did_ take it. It wasn't even in the coat, whatever she says. It was on the dressing table, in its box, ready for tonight. I have a works function in the City and I got it out specially"

I gaped at him in total disbelief.

"But _why_ , Jay...Naomi doesn't need a fucking watch, let alone a mans watch. It's even engraved on the back with your name. It doesn't make any sense?"

He carried on shaking his head.

"Maybe it was just an impulse...I don't know. All I know was when I went back into the bedroom, after she'd left...it was gone"

My head spun with a million different thoughts. Naomi...a thief? It made no sense. She would have known that she would be the prime suspect. What on earth...?

All the anger at Jenna and Katie was turned in on itself. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

I was showing him to the door, still trembling with tension over what he'd said when the doorbell rang. I thought it might be my fucking mother, so I opened it with more than a little hesitation. But worse, much worse than that...it was Naomi.

Her face told me more than words ever could. Here was I, in _her_ place, cosying up to my ex husband. I never even thought about the watch at first. Just that she would think the worst, whatever I said now.

"Naomi...I...I...thought I should talk to Jay...find out what's going on with this stupid watch thing...I..." I stuttered to a close, watching her face set into an expression I had never seen on it before. Anger, sheer icy anger.

"That's fine Emily" she said tightly "I'm sure your...husband... was very helpful...sorry your visit had to be so short JJ...but if you'll excuse me...I have quite a lot of sorting out to do"

Her voice was frigid and she brushed past both of us without looking, going straight into the bedroom and shutting the door. My head was churning with different thoughts. I still couldn't believe that she would steal from Jay..but he sounded so definite. He'd never lied to me...not _ever_.

I let him out with a small sad smile and closed the door behind him. I was no nearer to understanding what the hell was going on...but I needed to speak to Naomi first.

"Naomi...can I come in" I said softly, tapping on the bedroom door. I didn't get an answer, but pushed it open anyway. The room was dark. She'd pulled the curtains tight across the window. She was lying on her side, facing away from the door.

"Naomi...please...I know he must have been the last person you wanted to see here, but I wanted to see if I could get at the truth. I know my mother is capable of some cruel shit...but Jay isn't a liar...I thought that I could..."

"Don't" she said in a muffled voice, curling tighter on her side. I sat on the bed, and winced, not in pain but misery as she flinched when I tried to touch her. " _Don't_ " she said again.

"Naoms...please...we have to talk about this. I've spoken to him and...and..." I stopped then because what could I really say anyway? Yes, I'd spoken to him, but he'd basically backed up exactly what the police believed happened.

She turned to look at me, her blue eyes colder than I'd ever seen them.

"And now you _believe_ me...?" she said.

My eyes betrayed me. I was always a crap liar.

"I..I..." I choked and looked away from her intense, searching gaze. I heard her stifle a tiny sob before she laid back down, pulling the pillow over her head.

"I'd like you to leave me alone now Emily..." she said from under it quietly and my heart sank to my boots.

I got up with difficulty and slowly walked out of the bedroom. I left the door half open as I went down the hall to the lounge. A couple of seconds later I heard it bang shut loudly.


	22. Chapter 22

Naomi

I don't know how long I laid there, curled up on my side, looking at the blue curtains hanging loosely over the windows. Minutes?...No hours certainly. When I eventually decided to get up, I was stiff and uncomfortable. Hours then.

The sounds of Emily, first snuffling, then outright crying outside the bedroom did permeate my selfish misery, but I had enough grief of my own to deal with, hers as far as I was concerned was self inflicted.

Harsh? Unfair? Probably...but then who said life was fair? I'd gone from reasonably safe in my job, my life, to dangerously out of control within 24 short hours. My mind went over and over the things that had happened without ever getting close to a reason for her not to trust me. Emily getting her ex...(or maybe not so ex?) husband over here, in my fucking _home_ , to 'talk over' the situation wasn't even the worst of it. Because I'd seen the look in her eyes when I asked her if she believed me. She _didn't_ , simple as. Whatever he'd told her had just reinforced what the police and the Fitch bitches thought of me. A common thief.

I've been many things in my life, a lot of them I'm not overly proud of. I know I can be cranky, aloof, closed off and downright rude at times, but a thief? Never.

So Emily even _considering_ that I might have done that..steal a fucking watch for Christ's sake...was beyond painful. What had I ever done to her to make her think that of me? I'd put my life on hold for her, comforted her, made love to her, gave her somewhere to live and generally run interference against her horrendous relatives. And for that, the look she gave me as I laid here told me that all that meant nothing.

She believed whatever bullshit story they had concocted between them.

I got up slowly and stretched myself to unravel the knotted muscles in my back. No more Miss nice girl then. I can't live with someone who thinks I betrayed her. The 'old' Naomi was fully in charge now, whatever she said from now on. I left the bedroom and followed the soft crying into the lounge. For a second, when I first saw her, my heart lurched like it always did. She looked so small, so vulnerable sitting there, huddled up on the couch, eyes red with weeping and a handkerchief in her hand, with her crutches beside her. I wanted so much to go over there and tell her I was sorry, that I was wrong about what I saw in those beautiful brown eyes an hour or so ago.

But I couldn't. Because it wasn't true.

"Naomi?" she said hoarsely, starting to painfully lower her legs to the ground, her face a mix of hurt and misery.

"No..." I said quickly. Physical contact with her, despite what had happened, would finish me. I'd end up letting my love for her overwhelm the facts, and that couldn't happen.

" _No_ , Emily" I said again, waving at her to stay where she was "Let me talk first...OK?"

She nodded uncertainly and dabbed at her sore eyes with the damp square of white cotton.

"I have no idea what JJ said to you...or what reason you have for doubting me. I don't know what I've done to make you think I could ever steal from him or anyone else..."

She went to speak, but I brushed her choked reply away.

"Doesn't matter...what does matter is that you _do_ doubt me. I'm only going to say this the one time, because I have no intention of debating it with you. I have no fucking idea how that stupid watch got here, but I think your mother and sister probably do. And I don't _care_ if JJ is the paragon of virtue you think he is...maybe he's like fucking George Washington and never tells a lie...whatever..." I said in as cold a voice as I could muster "...none of that means a fucking thing to me. But this...thing..." I waved at us both "... is probably going to cost me my job as well as my liberty"

She started at that

"B..but...how...why" she whispered, tears streaking her cheeks.

" _Because_...Emily...getting charged, let alone _convicted_ of whatever trumped up charge the police throw at me...will invalidate my DBS check certificate. I work for a charity...yeah? All employees, especially ones at my level, have to be thoroughly vetted. A conviction for theft will cost me my job, simple as that"

"No...no, that can't be right..." she said in a strangled voice " but you didn't...you wouldn't..."

"Bit late to start believing me Emily..." I growled, knowing that I was breaking her down bit by bit, but unable to stop myself "...I saw that look, remember? Whatever JJ told you obviously convinced you I was lying"

"I _do_ believe you..." she started, but again, her eyes betrayed her.

"No you don't Emily" I said flatly "and to be honest, it doesn't matter anyway if you've changed your mind now. The trust has gone, and once that happens, its fucking over anyway"

This time she did get up, her face showing how agonising it was for her to move so quickly. I took a step back as she reached for me. I just couldn't let her touch me.

My voice softened as she wept openly, wringing her hands together as she tried to stand unaided.

"Naomi please...I'm begging you...I...I _love_ you..."

"Don't...please Emily" I pleaded back. This wasn't how I envisaged us declaring our love for each other;

"I can't lose you...I _can't_ " she sobbed, begging me with those huge brown eyes. My resolve fluttered, just for a brief moment, but then I thought of something else and my heart hardened again.

"I gave myself to you totally last night...showed myself at my most vulnerable, most open. Do you really think I'd just do that for anyone?" I asked

She shook her head sadly. Both of us were probably thinking the same thoughts.

I sighed long and hard. Now came the most difficult bit.

"I'm going to call Anthea now...and _that_ will be a long and painful conversation. Then I'm going to take some leave...a week, maybe two. I need to consider my options if I'm going to be a convicted thief from now on. Maybe someone out there will take a chance on me" I said bitterly, watching her suffer some more "But in any case...I can't be _here_ "

The meaning of what I was saying slowly registered with her.

"No!" she almost shouted "This is your home...if you can't bear to be around me...I'll understand that...but _I'll_ leave...I'll find a hotel or something? Please Naomi...can't we get over this? I'm sorry, so desperately sorry I doubted you, even for a moment. I know you couldn't have done that...but JJ..."

"Yeah" I said flatly "JJ obviously did a number on you...and what's done can't be undone, can it _hun_?"

She flinched at the way I said that and I knew it had hit home. Again, I knew in my heart I was being really unfair, but I was hurting too and I was the one facing unemployment and a criminal conviction. I sighed again.

"I think a bit of space would do us good...I'll shoot down to Bristol...Effy will put up with me in her spare room for a bit. You stay here...get yourself well again, fuck hotels and shit. _Then_ we'll talk...but Emily...?"

She stared at me with a hopeless look in her eyes.

"I thought...I thought we were better than this..." I said quietly.

Then I went back to the bedroom to pack and make that call to Anthea. Emily's renewed sobs followed me all the way.

When I came out ten minutes later, having had a fairly uncomfortable chat with a clearly stressed Anthea (I still had my job, pending the investigation) and a far shorter one with Effy, I had my coat on and a small overnight bag in my hand. Emily was standing by the front door, her face drawn and tired. Again my heart tugged at me...it would have been so easy to have said fuck it and stay, but I knew it wouldn't help at the moment. It was all too raw.

She waited till I got to her and wiped away fresh tears as we looked at each other.

"I know...I know I can't change your mind...but I want you to know something before you go" she said in a voice ravaged by crying "I DO believe you and I'm so...so very sorry for even thinking for a second that you could have done that. Please...please believe that?"

I nodded slowly.

"Can I do one thing before you go?" she said, resting her small hand on my arm. I nodded again.

She leaned closer and whispered into my ear.

"This will mean more than any words I can say...just take this with you...and remember, I love you more than anything in the world"

Then she kissed me. Not hard, not needy, but softly, gently, lovingly. My heart thumped like a drum as she did it. I wanted so much to put my arms around her and make all this go away. But eventually she pulled back and we looked at each other again.

"I know I hurt you so badly Naoms...but don't give up on us...we ARE better than this" she said in a voice that choked on the last word. My last memory of her was the tears running freely down her cheeks, dripping onto her top.

Then I left her.


	23. Chapter 23

Emily

Every morning, its the same. Wake up from a disturbed sleep, untangle the bedclothes from around my still aching legs and realise for the umpteenth time that the bed's too big without her. I _miss_ her...more than I could possibly say. I was so stupid, giving any credence to JJ and my mothers story. He never could stand up to her, even as big as he is. Jenna always dominates whatever room she's in. So him turning up here and parroting her bullshit story isn't that surprising, when you look at it.

But I made the fatal mistake of not dismissing it as crap the moment it left his lips. Just because he's never told me a lie before, doesn't mean he couldn't start now, does it?

And now I've gone and lost the one good thing to come out of all this ...this _shit_.

Naomi.

I spent a good part of the first night crying. I cried so much I made myself physically sick. So I threw up in the sink, cleaned my teeth, had a hot shower, which I can tell you is fucking difficult sitting on your bare arse with your legs poking out of the curtain...and then I cried a bit more. I think I got to sleep about 4 am. More exhausted unconsciousness than sleep. Waking up alone in that big bed made my throat constrict and my stomach twist yet again. I laid there looking at the ceiling for long minutes before realising I hadn't checked my phone for...ooh... 2 hours. Not that it mattered. Nothing.

I had phoned her about three hours after she left, but got no reply. So I texted her...then texted her again. Nothing too hysterical. Just the same message.

 _I love you_

 _I love you_

 _I love you._

Pathetic really. But making excuses wasn't going to cut it any more. So I just told her the truth. Again and again. I loved her. And I missed her, like a part of my body had been sawn off. The pain in my legs was nothing compared to the pain in my aching heart.

Same story all the next day and night. I knew she wanted time...distance...but I had to make sure she didn't forget how much I loved and missed her...have I said that?

Oh yeah...I have.

And so it went on. This is the third time I have woken up in her...our bed..and still no word. I found Effy's number written in crayon on the white board in the kitchen, so I tried that. Effy answered within two rings.

"Hi...er Effy?" I said hesitantly. After all, she was Naomi's friend and I'd hurt her, a lot. No reason for Effy to give me a minute of her time, was there?

"Yep?" she said coolly. Well, I expected that. "Just a minute Naoms..." I heard her say in an aside "It's work...just lay the table, will you babe"

My heart thumped in anguish again. She was settling in nicely at Effy's. I ached for that sort of easy domesticity. We'd had that once... me cooking her a hot dinner after she got in from work, then sitting together at the small table in the kitchen while she dissected the arguments of yet another oily Tory who was spouting patronising shite on the TV. It was heaven, and I missed it.

"What can I do for you Emily?" Effy said, without a trace of welcome in her voice. I could hear the sound of traffic now, so I guessed she had taken the call outside.

"You have no reason to help me" I said shakily, swallowing a sob which threatened to leap out of my already sore throat.

"True..." she said

"But I _love_ her Effy...more than I can say. I fucked up...big time. I know now she could never have done what they're accusing her of. I just want her to come home...to me, so that I can tell her that and make it up to her"

"Fine sentiments Em" Effy said in a detached voice "But about 72 hours too late. Naomi is no thief and if you don't mind me saying..." she paused to make sure I understood that she couldn't give a rats fuck if I minded or not "...your family...husband included... sound like a right bunch of cunts to me, yeah?"

Not the language I would have used, but spot on for brutal accuracy.

"Yes, you're right...cunts every one of them" I agreed.

"So what is it you want me to say Emily?" she said, in a slightly warmer tone. I jumped at the chance to get her help...any help.

"I'm not going to ask you to beg for me...I've done that and it just seemed to make things worse. But I am telling you the truth. I _do_ love her...more than I could possibly say...and I'll do anything...anything...to make this right. I miss her so much...it's driving me crazy. I just want her home...here"

I stopped then, because I could feel my throat constricting tightly and knew I was a millisecond away from losing it again.

She stayed silent for a couple more seconds and I worried that she might have hung up on me, but then she spoke.

"No promises Em...she's a right stubborn cow, which you probably know by now. She's hurting too. I meant it when I said she's never fallen for anyone like she has for you. But you've got to understand she has everything to lose if this goes tits up. Her job, her home even, if she can't pay the mortgage...but most importantly...her self respect. She's not just stubborn, she's proud, independent and sometimes the most infuriating woman on the planet...but underneath that...her heart is as soft as a marshmallow. She let her guard down with you...which has _never_ happened before. I'll talk to her, in my own time...but I'll do that because I think you two _might_ be able to work this out. If I didn't, I'd tell her to cut you off in a second, do you understand that Emily?"

I did.

I thanked her and hung up with a tiny bit more hope than I'd had for many a long hour.

But since then, nothing. I texted Naomi again, several times, but the texts were never answered.

Finally, today, I needed to take out the rubbish. I hadn't eaten much, but there was still a full flip top bin in the kitchen. Carefully, I tied up the clear plastic sack inside and hobbled to the door. I still needed a crutch for one leg, but the other leg was healing quicker and I could now put weight on it. The physio had been earlier today, and told me that I would be having one dressing removed sometime in the next two weeks if the leg carried on healing well.

I opened the outside door and propped it open with the brass doorstop Naomi had in the hallway. No point in risking being locked out. I'd only been out of the flat once in the past few weeks. Naomi had insisted on me going to the doctors with her to get some better painkillers. Which was a bit ironic really. The journey to the doctors and the hour in the waiting room before we got seen took more out of me than any painkiller could cure. I was glad to get back into the safety of the apartment. Since then, I hadn't been out of the door at all.

Grabbing the (luckily light) sack in one hand and my trusty crutch in the other, I hobbled painfully down the corridor towards the rubbish chute at the end.

As I got there, the woman from number 62 opened her door. She was an elderly lady, probably in her eighties. Naomi and I had chatted to her once on the way in, but otherwise, I hardly knew her.

"Oh hello dear" she smiled, gripping her own bag of waste "Here...let me help... _oh_?"

I look at her, puzzled..."Oh...?"

"You're back in _plaster_ my love...what happened?...when I saw you last week, you had them both off. Losing your keys was your only problem then. If I hadn't let you in you'd have been out here all afternoon"

I stared at her as if she had grown two heads. Plaster off, losing keys...? what the _fuck?_

I stood there like a lemon as she grabbed my bag of waste and heaved it into the open chute. My mind was whizzing round, trying to make sense of what the old biddy was saying.

She never waited for me to answer her, just went on about keeping keys safe and how the NHS was a disgrace...taking off my casts and then putting them back on. I smiled vacantly at her chatter and hobbled back to the apartment.

Blame the pain in my legs, blame my broken heart. Blame my innate thickness. I had both sides of the equation, but it took a good minute for me to calculate the problem.

Then it hit me like that truck did.

I threw back my head and screamed one word.

" _ **Katie**_!"

Followed by the most intense and extensive stream of lurid swear words I could utter. Suddenly it was all fucking _crystal_ clear, even to _me_.


	24. Chapter 24

Naomi

Effy didn't let on she'd spoken to Emily on the phone for a good few hours. Just let me rant on about treachery and betrayal etc etc, until I'd started to repeat myself, for the third time, then she interrupted.

"Seems to me babe...for someone who's determined to make me think 'its all over' you're spending a lot of your time talking about the person you supposedly hate?" she said wryly, taking a sip of hot chocolate (we'd stopped slurping wine a couple of hours ago).

"It _is_ over" I said flatly "I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me"

"That I can understand Naoms" she said..."but from where I'm sitting, Emily made the simple mistake of letting her ex plant a bit of nasty doubt in her mind. From what you've told _me_ , she's spent years being brow beaten by her mother, sister and husband, in that order. That's a lot of doormat conditioning to shake off in a few weeks?"

"Why are you defending her Eff?" I snapped "She broke my fucking _heart?_ "

Effy sighed and put down the still steaming mug.

"I'm your best friend, right?" she asked, looking me straight in the eyes.

I nodded. Of course she was. Ever since...well, ever since ever.

"Well then...sometimes its the job of a real friend to say it how it is, instead of just agreeing with everything you say. You're hurt, I get that. But so is she. She's lost her family, such as it is, her home and everything in it. Now she's lost you too. I think she might be doing just as much crying as you right now. But _she_ doesn't have a good friend to listen to her, does she?"

The stab of guilt that barb sent through me made my body shiver.

"Yeah but...she brought this on herself. If she'd just believed me when I..."

"I _get_ that..." Effy said "...and if Emily isn't regretting that little moment of weakness a whole lot, I'll be very surprised. You have to decide whether it's something you can get over, _together_ , or if you really do want to split up with her for good. You have to make your mind up if watching her walk away for ever is something you can live with Naoms"

The thought of _that_ happening did not sit well with me, but my default position of righteous anger was still bubbling under the surface.

"B...but...I..." I stuttered, not exactly sure what I was going to say to that, but not willing to let it go.

"But nothing" Effy said quietly "It's a simple equation. You love her, but don't trust her. She loves you, but she's fucked it up by letting the Addams Family drip poison into her ear. _Is_ it savable or not?"

"I...I just don't know, Eff" I said honestly "I keep remembering that look in her eyes when JJ was leaving, like everything she thought she knew about me was a complete lie"

"I don't think that's true Naoms" she answered "People do stupid things under pressure. I think she believes in you now"

I started at that. Now?

"How...how would you...?" The phone call, of course...work my arse. "You've _spoken_ to her...?"

Effy sighed again, as if explaining geopolitics to a hedge.

"It's a free country Naomi. She called, I answered. She's very, _very_ sorry and she wants you to forgive her. She believes you...and I believe her...that she's sorry at least"

"Believes me _now_ " I said bitterly.

"Yes...believes you now. She knows she fucked up, letting JJ and her mother get into her head. But she said she knows now you could never do anything like that. She wants you to go home so you two can talk"

"Home?" I said coldly "It won't feel much like home Eff. I'm on fucking bail...my girlfriend thinks I'm a 'thief' and I might well lose my job over this. Excuse me if the prospect doesn't exactly thrill me"

Effy shook her head sadly and started to get up.

"Well...that's up to you babe. You know you're welcome here as long as you want to stay. But the problems won't disappear just because you want them to. Emily's still in your flat, waiting for you to make your mind up. Anyway...I'm going to bed...being a shoulder to cry on is very... tiring...yeah?"

She winked broadly to take the sting out of that sentence.

"Bitch" I said without malice.

"Always" she chuckled and then left the room, and me.

I sat there for another couple of minutes replaying the conversation I had just had with Effy. As always, she was straight to the point. I either went back and tried to work things out with Emily or I walked away forever. There wasn't a middle way. Taking a deep breath I hunted for my phone in my bag.

Switching it on, I deleted the numerous messages and voice-mails from you know who and sat there with it in my hand, my thumb over her name on speed dial. But I chickened out. It was late, I was exhausted and I had no stomach for a long tearful conversation. I thumbed a quick text instead. Brief and to the point.

" _Coming home"_

XXX

Emily

I walked, well hobbled around the apartment for over an hour after my short conversation with the elderly neighbour. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over me. I cursed my mother, Katie, JJ and mostly myself in as colourful language as I could remember. How could I have been so stupid? Katie impersonating me was a bit of a switch, seeing as how I had done it for her many times at college. Taking her AS History exam wasn't the half of it. But now she's repaid me in spades. I had no idea how they timed it so perfectly. Naomi and I were only out of the flat for 2 hours max that day. They must have had this planned like clockwork. First one of them must have taken JJ's watch almost immediately Naomi left my old home. So it was missing when he went looking for it.

Then they must have fucking camped out near Naomi's place, waiting for an opportunity. Getting inside the building is too easy really. Many people are in and out all day. Katie, dressed no doubt in some of my clothes from my old place (the only happy thing about _that_ little detail is that she would have hated wearing anything approaching 'lezzer' gear) wouldn't have seemed like your friendly neighbourhood burglar. One flash of her big brown eyes (and probably her tits if it was a man) and she would have been in. It was a stroke of luck, the old girl from 62 being there, but come to think of it, she was almost always bumbling about in the corridor, hoping to latch onto someone to chat too. It's lonely being old, so I'm told. Poor old thing wouldn't have stood a chance with a Katie Fitch charm offensive.

" _Sorry to bother you...locked myself out...is there a spare key anywhere?...Naomi is at work"_

Something like that anyway. The old lady must have been given a spare key by Naomi at some point in the past. And seeing as how our friendly neighbour had seen me a couple of times over the past weeks, she wouldn't have thought it odd that ' _I_ ' was there.

Now I thought about it, I remember Naomi telling me that she was half blind anyway. Many people have been taken in by a Fitch switch. She was just the latest victim.

So...once inside... it would have taken seconds for Katie to hide the watch in my spare winter coat. I wasn't going out much was I, so the chances of me finding it before the cops were tiny.

All in all, a perfect scam. Once JJ, in all innocence, had reported the watch stolen, it would have taken nanoseconds for my mother to direct the police here. A sly tip off that Naomi had collected my clothes...specifically the coat...a few days before, and bingo. Dozy plod would have played their part in the frame up, just like they were supposed to.

Naomi gets arrested. I fall for JJ playing (OK, being) the dupe and a nice fat wedge is jammed between me and Naoms. My mother would know that I hate the idea of stealing. And Katie would know that my face betrays me every time if I have doubts. Like I said, the perfect scam.

But now I know...and I was so mad, I nearly went crazy, hobbling about, alternately raging and promising lurid, bloody revenge. But first things first. I needed to talk to Naomi. Problem was, she wasn't taking my calls or messages. I thought, once I'd spoken to her best friend Effy earlier, she might weaken and answer me, but every call went to voice mail.

By the time it was dark, I'd almost given up. If I couldn't speak to her, there wasn't much I could do from here. Even if my car had survived the crash, driving with two plaster casts was impossible. Even calling the cops and telling them my story seemed to be a bit pointless until I'd spoken to Naomi. But I couldn't just do nothing. So I called Southend Police station and asked to be put through to Sergeant Major (fucking stupid name). Inevitably, she was off duty, but the woman who answered promised me that she'd leave a message on her contact line. She was on an early shift tomorrow, 6 to 2...so I left my name and number and the hopefully tempting promise that I 'had some material evidence regarding the case'. With any luck, she would treat that as something worth following up. Even the dozy plod must need information?

By then it was getting quite late, so I gave it one last try on the phone to Bristol, but no go. It was only when I was dropping off to sleep after taking a few painkillers that the sound of my phone buzzing on silent woke me.

I grabbed it from the side table (I slept on Naomi's' side, just because I could smell her on the sheets and pillows. It wasn't much, but it comforted me a bit) Blearily I raised it to my eyes. A text.

" _Coming home_ " It said, and suddenly I was wide awake.

She was coming back. The smile on my face nearly split it in half. My sweet Naomi was coming home...


	25. Chapter 25

Emily

I'm dreaming, and to be honest, I don't care if I never wake up. Naomi is beside me, kneeling by the bed, stroking my face softly and staring intently at my face. In my dream, I smile at her and she places a single gentle kiss on my lips. Now my smile is so wide, she has to break off the kiss and lean back. But still she's looking at me with such love in her eyes that my heart swells inside me so much I catch my breath. She's so fucking lovely, those intense blue eyes softened with affection...towards _me_. I sigh again in my lovely dream. Because I know it's not real. She's in Bristol, probably calling me every name under the sun, determined never to give me the chance to say how sorry I am for doubting her. I feel my face crease into a frown and her eyes go wide in recognition of the change. She touches me again, stroking my cheek with her warm fingertips and whispering something so soft, at first I don't hear it. Then she says it again, slightly louder, and I do.

"Hey sleepy head...I'm home" she says in a voice that's tired but happy. My frown changes to a more hopeful smile and she returns it.

I mumble in my sleep.

"Don't want to wake up...want to stay in my dream...with you Naoms" I say, pleading in my voice.

"Shhhh" she whispers again and this time kisses me slightly harder. Not with need or desire, but more firmly, possessively than before. I return the kiss and make a small noise in my throat. A sound of pure pleasure. I really don't want to wake up at all...this is so good, so lovely...its almost as if...

My eyes open suddenly and I stare at a shadowy figure next to me. A thrill almost like an electric shock goes through my body, making me shudder. My mouth opens to say something, but again those lips are on mine and all that comes out is a muffled gasp.

This kiss is like the last, firm, possessive and long. I relax into it and let growing consciousness fill in the gaps. " _She's really here!_ " my brain screams at me even as I relax into another of those addictive kisses. Her hands are cupping both sides of my face and I feel like I could lie here and let her just...kiss me...forever.

Naomi

She looked so peaceful, so innocent lying there. Lying sideways, on my side of the bed, the pillow tucked under her head. Just like I remember her sleeping when I shared this bed with her, about a thousand years ago.

I'd let myself in quietly, having driven in the early hours so I could get here at dawn. I was tired, but as every mile disappeared behind me, I grew more determined. Emily had been wrong to doubt me, but I had been just as wrong to run off without talking it through. She was being asked to take the word of someone she had known for weeks against people she had known all her life. There was bound to be a tiny part of her brain that wanted to believe them. My default position, when my integrity is challenged is to get mad, then get out of there. Running. I do it very well...as I should do...I've been doing it most of my life. If in doubt, fuck off and start again.

Well this time I was sure I didn't want to do that. All my adult life I had been hoping for something like this, _someone_ like this. Now I had her...and the decision I had to make...no HAD made...was to hold on to it, to her.

Creeping through the dark flat, I took off my shoes and topcoat, dropping them on the couch, before slipping inside the open bedroom door. My heart leapt in my chest as I took in the sight of her sleeping form. Emily... _my_ Emily, I thought, with a rush of endorphins to the brain no chemical substance could match. Fuck MDMA, fuck Ketamine, this was the greatest rush known to man...or woman in this case.

The first time I kissed her, after I had quietly knelt by the bed and watched her for a couple of seconds, was just what I had hoped it would be like. Her mouth was slightly open, her breath steady and deep. I knew she was asleep. Her eyes were faintly reddened and had dark shadows under them. My fault, I scolded myself. Totally my fault. But if you're asking if that detracted from her beauty? Not a chance. Emily Fitch, asleep or awake, is the most perfect woman on the earth. She could make a hat stand fall in love with her.

She didn't respond to the kiss, just sighed as I pulled back. Then a tiny smile twitched the sides of those soft lips. I had to kiss her again. Theresa May and all the oily, sneering Tory cabinet could have been sitting there in rows watching and I would still have kissed her. Fuck, even Cook with his cheesy sexism and knowing leer wouldn't have made me pause for a pico second.

So I kissed her again. This time, when I pulled back, stroking her face, a small frown replaced the smile. Even without thinking, I knew why she had. She thought she was dreaming. So I kissed her a bit harder.

She muttered something low, something about wanting to stay asleep. My heart thumped again at how innocently adorable she was.

Now the smile was back again, swiftly followed by a puzzled crease of her brow. I could feel reality creeping through her slumber. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened those gorgeous brown eyes wide.

"Shhh" I whispered and kissed her again. NOW she was awake and tried to say something as her eyes registered me there beside her.

"Hey sleepyhead, I'm home..." I said simply and stroked her face with both hands. Her arms shot out from under the duvet and her hands gripped me like a drowning woman.

"Oh God...Oh Jesus...I thought it was a bloody dream...I'm so sorry, I should never have..." she babbled, still hugging me so hard I could hardly catch my breath. After a couple of seconds I pulled free of her arms, holding her bed warm hands in mine.

"Em... _stop_ it..stop apologising. We were both wrong...but I've tried to be alone again...I just can't do it. You're 'it' for me Emily Fitch. For better or worse...you're stuck with me. Now..." I smirked at her "Are you going to let me into my bed...it's been a long cold drive and I've been sort of looking forward to finding out if you're a bit more mobile with those little legs yet...all the way up here from Bristol"

Her face went from surprise to sultry amusement in a second and she threw the duvet aside, wriggling backwards so I could get in beside her. I stripped off my tee, short skirt and knickers quickly, seeing her eyes go dark and intense as I lost my clothing.

"I think I can manage what you're promising Naomi" she said archly "Get in here...right _now_ "

So I did...and she did...manage, I mean.

XXX

Emily

Lying here, on my back, its still hard to imagine things could turn round so quickly. I went to bed with two emotions competing to control my brain. Anger at my sister and mother and despair at the continued absence of my lover. I still had residual anger bubbling away in the background, but the despair was gone completely. She was home...with me...and currently lying on her back, sleeping sweetly. It might have been uncomfortable at times earlier on, certainly clumsy. But making love with her had been as satisfying and overwhelming as always. She stared into my eyes, seeming to need my approval as she took my tee off and stroked me until I screamed and writhed in ecstasy. No one ever before got me into such a frenzied state in bed...and I never wanted to find out if anyone could in the future. If I was 'it' for her, she was 'it' for me too. My lover...my Naomi.

We never got the chance to talk about my discovery. First it was all hot kisses and exploring hands. Then it was all about competing to see who could make the other scream the loudest. There were no winners and two winners, make of that what you will. She completes me and it seems I complete her. Cheesy but I don't really give a flying fuck.

Once we'd exhausted each other, and even though I hated the idea of her taking her hands away from me and her lips from my neck, we _were_ exhausted nevertheless, she slipped into a deep sleep with her fingers entwined with mine. I slept too, I don't know how long for, but it was fully light and traffic was buzzing past the building when I finally opened my eyes again.

I looked sideways and noticed the green digits on the clock radio said it was after 11. Mid morning then. I yawned and chanced a careful stretch of my legs. The pain in them was restricted to a dull ache after exercise nowadays, and I grinned to myself at the definition of 'exercise' I had just experienced. Sex...lots and lots of glorious, fulfilling sex. That'll blow the cobwebs away...there's paracetamol for anything else.

I heard her breathing change and looked back. Sure enough, those eyes were on mine again. She smiled drowsily.

"Going so soon...little Fitch...just when I was getting used to your presence" she joked, her voice thick with sleep.

"Better get used to it a lot more" I grinned back "I have no intention of letting this morning be a one off"

She reached for me and there would definitely have been a round two...or was it twenty two? But just as I let her lips cover mine, my phone rang. At the same time the doorbell went.

"Jesus" she complained "Timing is everything...who the fuck _is_ that?"

I'd totally forgotten about calling the cops last night until that moment. But as I struggled out of bed and lifted my phone, checking the display, it all came back to me. The call was from Katie...my fucking treacherous sister. I swiped the red button to block the call and threw the handset onto the bed just as Naomi sat up, a curious look in her eye.

"Katie..." I said grimly "she can fuck _right_ off...but I think you might be interested in our mystery caller" I said hopefully.

Sure enough, when I got to the front door after wrapping myself in one of Naomi's dressing gowns, which was hanging on the back of the door, there was a vague shape in the small window in the sturdy door. Naomi got up too, giving me a very welcome if frustrating look at that lithe, curvy body, before it was wrapped in towelling.

I got to the door and peeked through the spy hole. It _should_ be Sergeant Major...but I had no intention of opening the door if it turned out to be one of my double dealing family.

It wasn't.

A familiar bulky shape stood the other side of the door. I could hear her talking broach squawking as if to confirm the owner.

I swung open the door and saw her don the professional mask of indifference. They must have a special charm school at Police College. They all have this ' _fuck_ _you...you're obviously lying to me_ ' expression on their face when you talk to them.

God, I'd hate to be one of them. Never trusting anyone.

"Come in..." I said politely. She followed me into the lounge, which still had last nights screwed up tissues on the couch (for copious tears...nothing nasty!) and a half empty bottle of Spanish Rioja wine I had tried unsuccessfully to anaesthetise myself with before bed.

"You said you had some information regarding the theft of your husbands watch?" she said, pulling out her notebook and refusing my gesture for her to sit down. Bitch, I thought...I needed to sit down myself, but I was fucked if I was going to let her tower over me like I was a suspect or something, so I stood too.

"Yes...very important information" I said confidently

Just then Naomi walked into the lounge, yawning and pulling the dressing gown tighter round herself when she saw who it was standing in the room.

"Oh..." she said, her face going cold and hard "What is it this time...setting fire to Her Majesties Dockyards...Treason...?"

Sergeant Plod's face barely changed expression, but I caught the hard glint in her eyes.

"Miss Campbell?...no...nothing quite so exotic. Mrs Fitch here asked me to call...said she had some information?"

Naomi looked at me with a slightly odd expression on her face. We should have discussed this last night, but as we were otherwise occupied most of it, we hadn't, so I shook my head at her.

"Yes.." I said, turning back to Sgt Major "I had an interesting conversation with our neighbour at No 62 yesterday...Mrs..?" I turned again to Naomi and raised my eyebrow.

"Mrs Judd?" she answered, her face reflecting her total puzzlement at this turn of events.

"...Mrs Judd.." I continued "Apparently, I had a rather strange request for her the other day. Miraculously, my leg casts..." I pointed down at the thick white material covering my lower legs "had disappeared. Just long enough for me to ask her to let me into the apartment because I'd 'lost my keys'. Mrs Judd was quite surprised that I had been re plastered when she saw me a few days later"

You could clearly see the cogs working in Majors head and by the stare I was getting from Naomi, she was already way ahead of her.

"So...let me get this straight...you are saying...well, what _are_ you saying, Mrs Fitch?" the policewoman said slowly.

I realised I would have to spell it out. God, where do they get these people from?

"I have a twin sister Sergeant. A twin sister who apparently visited here...while Naomi and I were at the Doctors getting me a fresh prescription for painkillers. A twin sister who persuaded our elderly neighbour that she was in fact...me...and, well, do I really have to draw you a picture about the reasons she wanted to get in here while we were out?"

Naomi was shaking her head and muttered something darkly, but I ignored her for the moment. I needed our numbskull copper to join up the dots. Like now.

For a second, that look of disbelief stayed on her face, but then the penny dropped and she scowled.

"Right..." she said "Have you spoken to Mrs Judd since she told you this Mrs Fitch" she asked.

"Nope" I said "In fact, its the first time I've spoken about it to anyone, including Naomi here...who as you can see, is as shocked as you"

Shocked is probably too tame a word for what she was feeling, but it was the best I could come up with at short notice.

"OK...then I need to speak to Mrs Judd right away...then I think we will be wanting to have conversation...under caution...with your sister...Katie, is it?"

I nodded. Dobbing my twin sister in wasn't something that came easy, but she hadn't exactly left me with much option, had she?

I let Sergeant Major out and walked (hobbled) back into the lounge where Naomi was still standing where I'd left her, biting her lip and staring out of the window.

I wrapped my arms round her from behind and squeezed. Her body was trembling.

"I should have told you last night...but you kind of...distracted me..." I said quietly into her ear.

For a second I didn't get a response and my worry alarm began clanging away in my head. Perhaps I should have stopped the lovemaking long enough to give her the good news? Maybe she was angry with me for holding out on that information?

But she quickly turned round and hugged me back, picking me up and spinning me round.

"Fuck... _fuck_..." she kept saying over and over.

I grinned at her delighted expression.

"My thoughts exactly Miss Campbell...bedroom, now...where you can demonstrate that activity?"

She squealed in delight and walked me backwards in her arms to the bedroom door.

"I think Detective Fitch needs to get _her_ reward...don't you?" she laughed, reaching down for the dressing gown cord round my waist.

"Definitely" I smirked, pulling her face down to mine and kissing her mouth hungrily

The bedroom door slammed behind her as she kicked it with her heel and we collapsed onto the unmade bed in a tangle of white towelling and naked skin.


	26. Chapter 26

Naomi

It took me half an hour to properly 'thank' Emily for her little private detective work. No money changed hands, but I think...no, I know...she was happy with payment in kind,

I'm sort of getting used to the slight scratchiness of the twin casts on my shoulders when I'm 'thanking' her. We have to be a little careful still when we make love. But it's amazing how inventive two girls can be when the end result is so pleasant. Emily is adorable predictable when I go down on her. I suppose, having spent most of her adolescent and adult life, only reading about it and/or watching lamo male sponsored porn on the internet (a confession she made whilst blushing shyly one night last week) this is still quite new for her.

So I indulge her and me by taking my time and using every skill I possess to make every minute of it memorable . She likes to watch me pleasing her, so she props her head up on pillows, hooks her poor damaged legs over my shoulders and stares intently as I work on her. She's so sweet, both physically and mentally, it's hardly a chore. I take my time, like I said, licking, probing and sucking until her eyes roll back and she groans deep in her throat. I know then that she's done with watching...she's just _feeling_ from then on. Her thighs tense and the small muscles in her flat stomach dance as I get her going. Once her hips start to roll and one hand comes down to grip my hair, I know we're nearly there.

Her head starts to move from side to side, voice going husky and desperate. Her tongue pops out again and again, licking those pretty lips and I increase my pace, using my fingers to thrust and curl inside her. By the time I'm doing that, her vocal encouragements are getting a bit uncoordinated.

"Oh...Oh...Uh...Naoms...oh...fuck...oh _God_..."

You get the drift. Not exactly Shakespeare, but to me the most stimulating bit of prose I've ever heard. By then of course, I'm... _throbbing_...a bit too. Most times, I just concentrate on her, wanting to see that beautiful face twist in ecstasy and her head go back as she arches in surrender, but this morning I just had to join in. My spare hand, as it were, snakes between my own thighs and with the amount of moisture there already, it takes seconds for me to start moaning too. She knows instinctively what I'm doing to myself and it seems to send her libido into the stratosphere. She bucks up against my hungry mouth, her hips rocking my head back and the grip of my hair just this side of bearable. But by then, I could care less about my bed hair.

Just before Emily comes...she always opens her eyes and looks down at me, my busy mouth covering her. My tongue and fingers are working hard by now, circling, thrusting and searching for her sweet spot. As soon as my fingers find it and begin to massage firmly, she arches up instantly, her mouth wide open, meaningless words coming out. I fix my eyes on hers as her wonderful chest heaves and her thighs grip me.

"Oh...oh... _ **OH**_!" she cries out and I keep the rhythm regular and deep as she clenches on me, her fingers digging into my scalp. If there's a more beautiful sight in the world than Emily Fitch orgasming, I don't want to see it. Perfection.

I slowly and meticulously bring her down from her climax, softly licking round her super sensitive clit and stroking her inside before slowly withdrawing. She shudders a couple more times as the aftershocks grip her and then her thighs relax and I'm kissing my way back up her body.

This is the time when in the past, with other lovers, I would be wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and kissing their necks. But not with Emily. Emily insists on a long open mouthed kiss after I've had her. It's filthy and sloppy and...well, fucking amazing actually.

After her breathing slows and she's kissed the taste of herself off my lips enough, she grins at me cheekily and hugs me.

"That was...fuck..Naoms...that was..." she breathes and her eyes shine with happiness. If you could bottle that look, I'd happily be cast away on a desert island with just that little bottle for company.

"I know..." I grin and usually get a dig in the ribs as reward.

"Don't get cocky" she chuckles "Just because you're so fucking good at it"

I smile indulgently back.

"Only for you" I say seriously, and she searches my face for the truth of that statement. I don't have a problem with that. It's the truest thing I've ever said.

And then Emily Fitch demonstrates how much she's learned from the past few weeks 'tuition'.

And THAT...is a lot. The word natural is bandied about a lot nowadays. But natural she is. Sometimes I get sad when I think of all those wasted years, trying to fit herself into a heterosexual world she doesn't belong in. Lying back and thinking of the weekly shop while some hairy fool pounds away at her. It makes me sigh when I think of all those Saturday nights when she has endured sex rather than enjoying it. But the love that shines out of those beautiful brown eyes after I've pleasured her makes up for it. I was a fool to think there was anything untrue in those eyes. No one could pretend the way she she looks at me.

So...we made each other very happy...twice...and then cuddled up naked in our bed, whispering to each other until after 1 in the afternoon. Her phone buzzed a couple of times, but we ignored it.

There was something satisfying, knowing that her sister, who'd apparently got Em's new number from the whiteboard in the kitchen (she'd been a busy girl while she'd been in my apartment) was ringing Emily, probably wanting to crow about my imminent criminal conviction, when both of us knew that Sergeant Plod had already been to Mrs Judd's and was no doubt looking for the other Fitch twin and her evil mother. I had no wish to see either of them again in my lifetime, but I would have made an exception for the moment the cops descended on them.

 _Surprise_!

We finally got up around 2.30, after snoozing together for another hour. All that making up was hungry work, so while Emily busied herself with the Gaggia, I made eggy toast and bacon.

Eight sizzling rashers and two slices of egg toast later, we were both happy campers. Rampant, satisfying sex with my lovely girlfriend, followed by thick slices of juicy bacon and farmhouse bread dipped in free range egg mix and fried was a lovely and indulgent combination. The two cups each of quality Italian coffee with whipped cream was the crowning glory. Fuck the waistline, both of us had expended enough energy to power a small city before eating today.

The rest of the afternoon was just spent enjoying each others company. I had called Anthea's PA and updated her on the collapse of the Fitch conspiracy. Emily had received a text from her toxic sister.

" _The police are here Emily...what the FUCK?_ "

I saw a faint look of unease on Emily's face at that. I suppose mixed emotions came into it. Even as evil as they were, hearing that your mother and twin sister (your pregnant twin sister) were being arrested wasn't the most pleasant news for her.

But I talked her through it. After all, they had been all too happy to see me dragged through the courts and disgraced. I hid my pleasure at their pain pretty well, but when Emily went to the loo, I did allow myself a small silent whoop and two clenched fists at the irony of the current situation.

We got a call from Sergeant Major (will I ever be able to say that without smirking?) to say that Mama Fitch and Katie had been charged with perverting the course of justice and wasting police time. I don't think Jenna's famous 6 seater table would be a destination I could look forward to for the foreseeable future...


	27. Chapter 27

Emily

The Thompson 767 took off from Gatwick in a roar of twin Rolls Royce engines and a collective sigh of relief from all aboard. A half hour delay on the tarmac while another plane was towed off the runway with a technical fault wasn't ideal, but to be honest, not much could break my happy mood at the moment.

Naomi tensed beside me when the big plane banked sharply left as it rose over the Surrey fields and headed south. I suppressed the giggle which threatened to come out, Naomi was a nervous flyer it seemed and I couldn't help finding that a bit endearing after her bravery in all other things before. She was so strong, so formidable at times, that it was kind of nice to find there was something she wasn't quite so sure about. I squeezed her hand as she stared rigidly at the ceiling as the plane climbed to altitude. This was always my favourite part of flying, take off, so I found it hard to understand how anyone could find it unpleasant.

She turned her head to face me as the engines slowed and the flaps retracted. I grinned at her fixed expression and she glowered back.

" _Not_ funny Ems" she said primly "I fucking hate flying..."

I giggled aloud this time, which made her frown even more pronounced. I just couldn't help it.

"Bitch" she said, without any real malice, so I leaned over and kissed her on the lips softly. I felt her relax as my mouth soothed her fears. As I opened my eyes I saw a middle aged woman in the seat across the aisle stare then smile, as I kissed Naomi. At last, I thought...I can kiss the woman I love, not caring what other people thought. At least this stranger wasn't judging me. Not like my fucking _fami_...No, I thought, no negative thoughts of judgemental Fitches or rainy England for two whole weeks. In two hours or so, we would be in Sardinia. An hours drive to a little township, more accurately gaggle of white painted tourist cottages by the sea, a small ' _villetta_ ' of our own and a big, comfortable double bed for us to... enjoy. Plentiful local red wine, rough fresh baked bread and huge, pitted black olives for tea. Perfect. I hadn't actually enjoyed a holiday for years, decades even. The ones with my family were to be endured, not enjoyed and the less said about my annual trip to Greece with JJ the better. This time I wouldn't be anaesthetising myself with alcohol before reluctantly slipping into bed with an expectant, priapic husband. This time I wanted to enjoy every second I spent with a naked and willing Naomi. This time was for me...for _us_.

I sighed contentedly and was rewarded with another smile from her.

"Looking forward to it?" she asked quietly as the seatbelt lights went off.

"Always look forward to 'it' " I said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Perv..." she grinned, squeezing my leg and licking those far too fucking kissable lips, which gave me the inevitable twinge below.

"Always" I purred, stroking her thigh possessively. She twitched when my hand got a little too close to my personal Nirvana, but I just retreated slightly, using my nails to trail across her tight jeans . I knew all too well what that did to her libido, and today was no exception. She hissed and gripped my hand tight in hers.

"Patience babe..." she said thickly, her intense blue eyes almost hidden by the pupils. "You'll have two whole weeks to play with the merchandise...I seem to have woken a monster..."

I grinned up at her flushed face. Monster?Maybe...years of abstinence and sterile sex with JJ had left me with a considerable passion deficit. A deficit I had tried hard to reduce over the past couple of weeks. Even before my casts had been removed, we had managed to enjoy a...healthy...sex life in her, no our, double bed. I may not have been the most flexible lover she'd slept with, but I was rapidly making up for lost time. Last night for example...

 _12 hours ago_

 _We were lying on the bed in our bathrobes, suitcases packed and standing by the bedroom door. Although my legs were pale and weak, I was getting there and having just enjoyed a lovely soak in the bath while Naomi showered, I was eager to start demonstrating my newly discovered mobility._

" _Naoms?" I said, watching her arrange herself neatly beside me on the bed._

" _Yeah?" she smiled...I think she knew what I was about to propose...but I was about to surprise her._

" _Have you got any...like, scarves...?" I smirked_

 _Her eyes got big and she swallowed before answering._

" _What sort of scarves?" she said in a husky voice._

" _The sort you tie your girlfriend up with...before sitting on her face...?" I said_

 _She choked at that and searched my face for a wind up...something that wasn't there to find. All that internet surfing had to pay off sometime, no?_

 _I think she was slowly realising I had many unfulfilled fantasies for us to explore together._

 _She nearly joined me in being an ex A & E patient, moving so quickly... vaulting off the bed and searching frantically in the double wardrobe for something suitable, cursing quietly in a muffled voice as she rummaged inside. In a few seconds, I heard a triumphant "Aha..." as she discovered what she was looking for. She stood up and turned to me with a trio of silk scarves in her hands. I had taken the opportunity to take off my bathrobe and drop it onto the floor beside the bed while she wasn't looking and her face registered my nakedness immediately._

" _Jesus Ems...so fucking..." she breathed. I could see her legs trembling as she walked the three steps to the bed. Her eyes were fixed on my body._

 _I laid back slowly and offered my hands up to the brass bed head. She took one of the scarves and threaded it through the thick rail, tying my arms together firmly._

" _Too tight?" she asked me, biting her bottom lip attractively._

" _Not at all", I said, sliding my legs open so she could tie each one to the bottom rail by my ankles._

 _She bit her lip again as she tied them up with slightly shaking hands, then dropped her own robe to the floor, still looking at me intently._

" _Christ" she said in a voice an octave lower than usual "Why haven't we done this before...I'm on fire here..."_

 _She blinked at me when I just smirked at her, before climbing over me. She paused as her thighs parted above my head, staring down at my face._

" _Are you sure about this Em?" she asked, searching my expression for any doubt._

 _I shook my head. I might have only read about this sort of thing, but it was incredibly exciting, being restrained like this, knowing what was about to happen...what I was about to do._

 _She lowered herself carefully over me, holding my eyes with her stare. Before I could even touch her...just my breath on her heated skin, it was enough to make her jerk and sharply inhale._

" _Jesus fucking Christ Em...this is so bloody... erotic!" she gasped as I extended my tongue and ran it the full length of her. Her thighs jumped and she threw her head back, before looking down again at me. I knew my face was as intense as hers at what we were doing. I licked her again and this time she moaned deep in her throat. The fact that I couldn't touch myself, couldn't do anything but serve her, made it twice as hot as just going down on her, lovely as that always was. I may not have had much experience... but I knew what I liked...and it seemed like she did too._

 _She didn't last long...how could she? By the way she bucked and jerked over me, I knew this would be fast and explosive. It was..._

 _She gripped my head at the end, only a few minutes after I started probing her, one hand buried in my hair, urging me to lick deeper, faster. Her other hand braced her body against the bed head, the brass frame squeaking madly as I lapped at her wetness. When she came, she cried out in several high pitched squeals, her breasts bouncing with her frantic movements, hips grinding down on my mouth. If I had to pick a time to die, it would have been that moment. Nothing compared to watching Naomi...my Naomi...lose it so spectacularly._

 _Of course, once we'd recovered a bit (me with my aching jaw and her still trembling with aftershocks) we went at it again. This time with her the willing captive. By the time I was rocking and moaning above her, I knew just why she found it so overwhelming._

XXX

And now we were on a plane, speeding at 30,000 feet across the English countryside, bound for a beautiful island in a glittering blue sea. Sardinia...the jewel of the Mediterranean.

Landing in the early afternoon, we waited with the other drones for our luggage, breathing in the heavy, exotic smelling air. The car hire check in queue was mercifully short and inside an hour from landing, we were nosing out of Elmas Airport, onto the coast road. Villasimius was only 50 km away, along a twisting, narrow tarmac road, with glorious views of the intense blue sea. Like Naomi's eyes, I thought, as she skilfully steered the little Fiat up the steep climbs and around bends with precipitous views out to sea.

Soon enough, we were pulling into the small hamlet. The town was a mile or so further inland, but as Anthea owned the villetta, we already had keys. Pulling up beside the whitewashed single storey building, Naomi turned off the engine and we heard the surf crashing on the beach a few yards away, hidden by olive trees and sand dunes. The only other sound was the ticking of the hot engine and the rustling of the lemon and olive trees in the small front garden.

Unpacking was left till later as we explored the villetta. A small living room cum dining room with a table covered in chequered waxed cloth. A couch and a portable TV. Through the hall were three doors. Two double bedrooms and a family bathroom. I thought that was it, but Naomi led me back out into the garden. Round the building we went, me cooing at the pretty flowers and surprisingly green lawn. Then the pleasant surprise of a set of stone steps up to the flat roof. Surrounded on all sides by a rough timber ranch type fence, the roof terrace gave us uninterrupted views across the trees to the dunes and sea. Behind us was an olive tree covered mountain. If any place could be called paradise, this was it.

I squealed in joy and gave Naomi one of my famous Fitch hugs. Just about the only pleasant memory I had from my childhood. Back in the days when I was little and my dad at least treated me as an equal to my twin. Nowadays, for a quiet life, he settled for toeing the 'company line' al la Jenna Fitch.

She grinned at me happily and squeezed back as well as she could. We shared a long kiss, up there on that rooftop, surrounded by natures glories and with the wonderful aroma of lemons and olive groves. We held hands after that and just soaked up the views, arms linked together and our faces bright with happiness.

XXX

A week later, and the novelty was far from worn off. The roof terrace was used every day now. Breakfast coffee and Italian bread, dipped in olive oil, watching the fiery sun make its way up in the crystal clear blue sky. After dinner wine parties for two as well, (the wine was cheap and strong, bought by the litre from the grocers in town). Most evenings, after eating out in one of the numerous Tavolas and Pizzerie in Simius, we'd make our way home along the dusty winding road, back to our little piece of paradise. A big bottle of chianti later, we'd make our way clumsily back down the rough steps to the double bedroom. With the air con humming in the background, we'd make love over and over, no scarves needed...just two increasingly tanned, writhing bodies, joining and rejoining over and over.

Love...what a wonderful thing?

It was on the second Monday of our holiday that the real world intruded. I had deliberately left my phone off. Naomi had hers and there really wasn't anyone I needed to speak to in the UK. My boss had given me another month on the sick, and my family wasn't exactly high on my must phone list. But after more than a week of 'honeymoon' bliss, I decided, when Naomi was asleep in the bedroom, after another night of sexual heaven, I crept out onto 'our' roof terrace and after putting the phone on silent, checked my messages.

Obviously, Katie had passed on my number to our mother, because there were untold missed calls. No texts from Jenna...I guess she finds it hard to put the menacing into MMS, but there were a number of voice mails. I listened to the first couple with growing dread. They started the same way, wheedling, pleading for me to talk to her, but after a good start, the old Jenna soon emerged. Threats, apocalyptic predictions about the consequences of what I had done. Mainly, it had to be said, she was inevitably more concerned with me being 'corrupted' by Naomi, than the police stuff.

That was until the third message. I think she must have had another visit from the plod. This time, it appeared they were adding to the charges. Katie had been charged with burglary and theft. My mother had been charged with conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. It seemed they had at last woken up to the seriousness of what they had done. I'm guessing a solicitor had been consulted. Once my mother realised that she and her favourite (pregnant) daughter could actually end up in prison over this, she started to panic. I'd never heard that in my mothers voice in all the time I'd been alive and it frightened me. My father, weak as he was and my little perve of a brother, James, would also suffer over this. My mother was the main breadwinner, with her high class wedding planner business. If she was locked up, they'd lose the house for sure. Guilt started to creep into my bones. All this was my fault?

That's how Naomi found me, an hour later, sobbing quietly on the roof, a circle of crumpled tissues around me, huddled against the dawn air.

She wrapped herself around me and hugged me fiercely.

"What is it my darling" she whispered, kissing my neck and shoulder.

"My mum and sister are going to prison...and it's all my fault" I choked.

"No it's NOT!" she hissed "Jenna and Katie were happy to see ME ruined and with a criminal record. It's _not_ your fault Ems. Whatever they have coming to them is down to them, not you...I know why you're beating yourself up over this, but you need to see it for what it is. They deliberately set out to frame me and put a wedge between us. This isn't about what _you_ did babe...its about what they felt was best for you. Well, they were wrong then and they're wrong now. We're together...and that's that. No one and nothing can stop us being happy together...right?"

I nodded weakly as she turned my head towards her and kissed me gently on the lips. I wanted to believe her. But in the back of my mind a growing sense of unease was creeping into my bones...this nightmare wasn't over yet.


	28. Chapter 28

**Last one then.**

Naomi

The next week in Italy wasn't quite as fun as the first. That being said, it wasn't exactly shit either. Emily was upset about what was about to happen to her mother and sister. I got that. Even if they had been queen bitches to me and her, it was her family after all. But I couldn't find it in my heart to make the right noises about their sad predicament and she noticed. I'm not _that_ good an actress.

Making love every night was still obligatory, and to be honest, at times it was even better than before. There was a sense of almost desperation in Emily as she writhed and cried out underneath me. Like she could lose herself in touches and caresses and hot, needy kisses. Like all the time I was making her moan and scream, she could switch off the nagging doubts inside her.

I tried...I mean, I _really_ tried to distract her. If it wasn't sex (and there was a LOT of that), it was trips up the coast, into town and a couple of times, I even got her to go with me to Cagliari, so we could do some clubbing. Its weird, being in a nightclub where almost no one speaks your language. Getting a drink is OK, but the usual drunken conversations mean almost nothing to our English ears and more than once a slurred sentence was met with wide, puzzled eyes, and not just on our part.

But we did all that...and for the most part, it worked, after a fashion.

The last night, as we walked along the deserted beach, the sun a huge crimson ball sinking over the horizon and the soft sound of the surf on sand the only thing disturbing the silence, she held onto my hand like she was frightened she would be dragged away by a fucking sea serpent or something. I had to say something, even though we had been avoiding even mentioning the Jenna word all week.

"Em...I know we're going home tomorrow..." I started, looking down at her small sad face "...and things will be difficult for a while...but you know I'll always be there for you, don't you?"

She nodded, but even in the deepening dusk, I could see big tears brimming in her beautiful eyes. I hugged her hard, holding her to me as if I could prevent the world intruding on us by sheer force of will.

"What are we going to do Naoms?" she said in a tiny voice "My family will be destroyed...broken over this...and it's all my...f..."

"NO" I said sharply "That's not true Em. How can it possibly be your fault? You fell in love, simple as that. I know people got hurt and thats...thats shit too. But being happy isn't a crime. JJ deserves someone who will love him the way he should be loved. Your mother and sister will have to get used to the idea that we're together...for good. I love you, and I think you love me..."

I got a fierce hug back for that.

"... _know_ you love me...so whatever the future holds, we'll face it together, right?"

Emily forced a small smile and nodded.

"I know...I know in my heart that everything you say is right. I've never been so happy, so fulfilled since we got together. Everything in the past seems like I see it through a grey mist...like it wasn't real. THIS is real...I know it. But I can't help feeling sorry for my dad, my little brother...they didn't do anything to me...to us. But they'll suffer too..."

I squeezed her again. Everything she said was true. I had no doubt she loved me as much as I loved her. And her family would be broken over this. A criminal record and a possible prison sentence was as devastating for someone in Jenna and Katie's position as mine. I knew that. But what could I do?

"Look Em..." I said slowly "What if... I went to the police when we get back...maybe even talk to Jenna's lawyer...say I don't want to press charges or something...maybe that would help?"

The look on Emily's face was part shock part total adoration. I could live with a look like that for the rest of time, I decided on the spot.

"Really?" she gasped, stopping our walk and staring up at me.

"Really" I said without much enthusiasm. The thought of Jenna and Katie getting away with what they'd done stuck in my throat like a fish bone, but it felt the right thing to say, even if it choked me.

I got another fierce hug and a shower of kisses over my face as we stood there on the shoreline while the sun dipped below the horizon. I had no idea if any of what I'd said would have the slightest effect on either the police or her family's attitude towards me, but if it meant Emily was even the tiniest bit reassured, it was worth it.

What definitely WAS worth it was the reward I got when we got back to our little villetta. Let's just say the scarves got another outing. Well, not scarves...but similarly adaptable items of erotic restraint. Just before Emily screamed my name, kneeling over me, I thought idly that I really should invest in a decent video camera when we got home...these moments of acute joy really should be saved for posterity, no?

XXX

Walking into the police station wasn't the most delightful thing I had done recently...that position being reserved for naked naughties with a certain petite brunette. But it had to be done, like it or not. Getting through to the civilian guy on reception that I wasn't a criminal answering bail or someone reporting a cat up a tree was equally frustrating. But eventually I was sitting in a puke green room, opposite a rather pissed off looking policewoman.

"So...let me get this straight..." she said with that air of professional disbelief coppers always adopt with the public "...your girlfriend's mother and sister planted stolen goods in your home and tried to get you arrested and convicted of a serious criminal offence...and now you want us to drop all charges?"

I nodded.

"Yep...that's about it" I said, staring back at her blank face.

"Have they put any pressure on you to withdraw your statement...because if they have that's another very serious..." she started

"No" I said firmly. "That's not it at all"

She wrinkled her brow and put her pen down.

"So why?...with your statement and the one from the lady across the hallway from your apartment...we have a cast iron case. I'm pretty sure the court will impose custodial sentences for something like this. Maybe not in the case of..." she looked down at the open file on the desk "...Katherine Fitch...who I understand is pregnant...but certainly for Jenna Fitch. Excuse me for asking, but what do you owe her exactly?"

"Nothing" I said grimly "If it was that simple, I'd see her locked up tomorrow and not waste a second worrying about it. Look...are you married...or with someone?"

Her professional impassivity cracked for a second.

"That has nothing to do with..." she said

"Oh it has" I said almost sadly "I've met the woman who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love her so much it actually aches inside...if that's not being too soppy?"

She smiled briefly. Her face registered something approaching understanding. Maybe outside the working day she actually was a human being?

"I know _that_ feeling well enough...but still?"

"Still...if you understand that...understand this too. Whatever shortcomings Jenna has as a mother... and they're many and legion...and ditto for Katie's sisterly duties...they're the only family Emily has. How am I gonna live with her, knowing I got her family locked up...criminalised? It'll break her...maybe not now, not even soon but eventually she'll blame me...blame herself, whatever. And I don't want those bitches to have the last laugh on us. Locking them up would give me a great deal of pleasure...but them knowing I was the bigger person...knowing that I could have gone through this, but didn't? It's a win win situation for me and Emily. They will still hate me, maybe even more than now...but they'll _owe_ me...do you see? How much sweeter can revenge be?"

I sat back, breathing hard.

The policewoman studied her notes for a bit and then sighed, closing the folder.

"I can't talk you out of this...withdrawing your statement?"

I shook my head firmly.

"OK...I can't promise the CPS won't want to proceed with the case anyway...but between you and me..without their star witness and the actual victim...it's unlikely they will pursue it through the courts, specially with the crackdown on costs from above"

This time I sighed. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off me.

XXX

When I got home, Emily was already there in the kitchen...head down over the stove. The radio was on and I stood in the doorway for a second, enjoying the sight of my girlfriend (oh, how sweet that sounded to me) making us dinner and singing softly to an old George Michael track on Heart FM. Domestic bliss or what. She was still in her shorts and tee shirt...it looked like someone was finding it hard to shake off the holiday mood. I grinned as she wriggled that delicious derrière while she stirred the sauce. Too fucking tempting by half, I thought, a rush of endorphins making me squeeze my legs together. I covered the distance between us in a second, enveloping her in my arms, making her jump.

" _Jesus_ Naomi" she giggle breathlessly "Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you"

But she rotated that pert arse provocatively against me as she did. Bitch.

I growled in her ear and reached up, cupping both firm breasts in my hands and squeezing. No bra...kill me now...it doesn't get any better than this.

"Turn the fucking gas off, Emily Fitch" I said in a hoarse whisper.

"Why?" she said artfully, grinding backwards again "It'll spoil...don't you like my cooking Naomi Campbell?"

"Not as much as the thing I'm gonna do to you right now if you come...with...me" I said, sliding one hand down her front and inside those flimsy shorts. Just bare, smooth skin underneath.

No bra, no knickers either?...Jesus...the dinner can wait, my brain pleaded.

"I have some good news for you beautiful...but first I think you need to give me my reward in advance" I whispered

"Always" she breathed, spinning round and capturing my lips with hers. She reached behind her and turned off the hob. I had a feeling dinner would be salad tonight.…

XXX

 **OK, thats it folks. Another one revisited. I hope you enjoyed it. I am writing new stuff, so watch out for it in a couple of weeks. But I won't be posting some of my old ones, unless specifically asked for them. Some, like _The List_ , proved a bit 'out there' for the mainstream Naomily lovers when I originally posted it. Too much naughty stuff with other people I guess. Others, like _Orange Wednesday_ , _Bereft_ and _Long White Cloud_ , which was a three part story, are quite old, so maybe no one wants them again. Anyway, I'll have a look at _Oilzz_ and _Rainy Days_ , to see if they're worth re editing and reposting.**

 **Thanks for stopping by!**


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